Broken
by Harikari
Summary: Sequel to “Breaking the Stone.” It’s seventh year and trouble is brewing at Hogwarts. DracoRon slash. Rated for language, violence, etc.
1. Part One

BROKEN  
  
Author: Nox (goddess_nox@hotmail.com)  
  
Summary: Sequel to "Breaking the Stone." It's been almost 2 years since that certain Winter Break & trouble is brewing at Hogwarts. Draco/Ron slash (or shounen-ai). Rated for language, violence, etc.  
  
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me. They belong to Rowling and Scholastic. However, this fanfic does belong to me. Please don't steal. Please don't sue.  
  
Notes: I have only a vague idea about where this story is going. Please forgive me if updates don't turn out to be frequent. This is the sequel to my fic "Breaking the Stone". Hopefully this fic will have less mistakes. I think a person who hasn't read BTS can most likely figure out what's going on in this story, but I'm not sure. I'd like to THANK (again ^_^ ) every reviewer of Breaking the Stone. It was all of you who inspired me to write more fics. THANK YOU!!! This 1st chapter is mostly background on what's happened the past couple of years. Next chaps will be more interesting ( I think...). ENJOY!! Reviews are pleaded for!!  
  
WARNINGS: This story contains slash. (Boy + Boy = LOVE) Meaning, a homosexual relationship. The characters are most likely OOC. The slash relationship may turn out to be more intense than what it was in BTS (not sure yet...). Broken will probably contain SPOILERS for books 1 through 4. And maybe 5, though that technically didn't take place in this universe.  
  
/...../ Denotes thought or dream sequence. _ABCD_ Denotes Emphasis. ****Marks scene change.  
  
Part One:  
  
Hermione Granger was not happy.   
  
She wasn't not happy because she hadn't received a letter that summer congratulating her on being appointed Head Girl, nor was she unhappy because she hadn't been chosen as a prefect during fifth year. Heck, she wasn't even not happy because, no matter how up-front and obvious a girl tried to be, Ron Weasley never seemed to notice when he was being flirted with.  
  
No, Hermione Granger was not happy because it was the first day of seventh year and her two best friends were missing from the breakfast table. And this meant, of course, that they would be late for their classes.  
  
/I'm not lonely,/ she thought, stabbing at a bowl of oatmeal with her spoon. /I'm just worried about the futures of my friends./ She hadn't taken up owling letters to Viktor every two days, or signing up for about fifty extra classes just because she was feeling left out. That would be ridiculous.  
  
/Although, Harry did spend an awful lot of time with Cho sixth year. And Ron . . . Ron just seems different./ Hermione dropped her spoon and sighed. Okay, so she was lonely. So what? Who wouldn't be? Her friends had virtually abandoned her.  
  
It had been a slow change. A change that had begun fifth year. Nothing out of the ordinary had happened that year. No Voldemort, no evil diary, no Sirius Black. Nothing. At first, there had been tension. What was You-Know-Who planning? Why hadn't Harry Potter been in the papers lately? These questions had been on every witch and wizard's mind. And then fifth year had passed, sixth year had come, and the nothing had persisted.  
  
It was bound to happen, Hermione guessed. She just wished it hadn't. Without strange events and mysteries to solve, the famous trio had deteriorated. Harry had asked Cho Chang out in the beginning of sixth year and had been dating her ever since. The bespeckled boy had also started working harder on his classes after his OWLS had determined he was fit to become an Auror. Hermione had gotten over her anger at the fact that she hadn't been chosen as a prefect, and had dealt with the idea that she wouldn't be Head Girl, before deciding that she wanted to be qualified for pretty much any position in the Ministry, and signing up for an unnatural number of classes. The girl only occasionally brought her nose out of a book, and that was only to converse with Ron. Ron Weasley, who had been the first one to act decidedly _off_ fifth year, who was just hoping to pass all of his most basic classes in order to graduate, and who seemed the most distant of any of them.  
  
Something had changed Ron fifth year. And Hermione, for the life of her, couldn't imagine just what it was. Or maybe it was the lack of what. Maybe it had been the nothing.  
  
"Hey Herm." It was Harry. He gave her a pat on the shoulder before grabbing a piece of buttered toast and stuffing it into his mouth. As he ate, Hermione vaguely noted the slight layer of muscle he'd gained, and how much taller he'd gotten. He certainly wasn't the scrawny little eleven-year-old she'd made friends with first year.  
  
As Harry was pouring himself some orange juice, Ron sprinted into the Dining Hall and slid to a stop in front of his usual seat. "Hey Herm," he said, and nodded a hello to Harry. He grabbed himself a plain piece of toast, spun, and sprinted away again.  
  
At the same moment Ron disappeared into the Entrance Hall, Harry spotted Cho and sat down his half-finished glass of juice. He went over to his girlfriend and proceeded to walk her to class.  
  
Hermione realized that the tables were clearing, and that all of this mulling over her friends was going to make her late for class. She pushed away her plate and reached for her book bag.   
  
"Hey guys. How are you? I'm well," she said to a rapidly-emptying Dining Hall, before getting up and hurrying to her first class of the year.  
  
Nothing was as it was supposed to be. Everything seemed . . . broken.  
  
And Hermione Granger was definitely not happy. 


	2. Part Two

BROKEN  
  
Author: Nox (goddess_nox@hotmail.com)  
  
Summary: Sequel to "Breaking the Stone." It's been almost 2 years since that certain Winter Break & trouble is brewing at Hogwarts. Draco/Ron slash (or shounen-ai). Rated for language, violence, etc.  
  
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me. They belong to Rowling and Scholastic. However, this fanfic does belong to me. Please don't steal. Please don't sue.  
  
Notes: If you'd like to archive my fic on your site or something (yes, I know I'm dreaming), just email me! There's pretty much no doubt I'll say yes. I'd just like to know where my stuff is going.  
  
WARNINGS: This story contains slash. (Boy + Boy = LOVE) Meaning, a homosexual relationship.  
  
/...../ Denotes thought or dream sequence. _ABCD_ Denotes Emphasis. ****Marks scene change.  
  
Part Two:  
  
/Rough hands held him against the cold wall of the third floor bathroom. He could feel warm breath brushing across his cheek, and his fingers itched to run through the tendrils of light blond hair hanging carelessly in the way of his restrainers eyes.  
  
"What took you so long?"  
  
A sly grin. "You know professors. They have no consideration when it comes to a guy leaving in the middle of class to make out with his boyfriend."  
  
There was a pause, both of them breathing more harshly than usual. And then Draco went in for a kiss.  
  
Lips met lips. Ron yielded quickly. He opened his mouth in surrender to Draco's probing tongue and- /  
  
"Hey, wake up! You'll be late for class."  
  
Ron Weasley woke to the sight of a curious Neville Longbottom. The young wizard (half of the school was convinced he was a squib) had pulled aside the curtains that usually hid the redhead's four-poster bed from view. He studied the sweaty and cloudy-eyed Weasley before shaking his head. "Nightmare?"  
  
Ron was beyond grateful for the thick blankets that Hogwart's provided, as they were hiding the evidence of his dream. "Er...yeah."  
  
"That's the third one this week. Maybe you should tell Madam Pomfrey."  
  
"No, I'll be fine." Neville turned away, grabbed the book bag perched on his own bed, and shrugged.  
  
"See you in class," he said, and left the room.  
  
Ron let out a breath he hadn't even been aware of holding. Neville was right. Something was wrong. But he was certainly not going to tell _Madam Pomfrey_ about it. He'd rather kiss a spider.  
  
/Kiss.../  
  
He wasn't having nightmares, or even "exciting dreams". They were memories. Memories of late fifth year and early sixth year. Memories of a time when he and Draco had private kissing sessions, heated glances in the hallways...Memories that made Ron sick and sad all at once.  
  
/Draco. That bastard./  
  
With a sigh Ron threw back the covers and stood, a quick cold shower in mind. It wasn't until he was fishing through his trunk for a semi-clean shirt to wear under his school robes that he realized Harry, his supposed best friend, hadn't even bothered to nudge him awake this morning.  
  
/And Hermione,/ he thought. /I don't think I said even two words to her yesterday./  
  
It was no one's fault but his own. It was he who'd gotten cozy with a Death Eater's son during Winter Break fifth year. It was he who'd kept his mouth shut about the _other_ Death Eater's son who had tried to kill him. And it was he who'd distanced himself from his friends out of guilt.  
  
Triumphant, Ron pulled out a shirt that had been at the bottom of his trunk, then went off to take a shower.  
  
*****  
  
"You should all know how to go about transfiguring, even _advanced_ transfiguring, by now. It is, however, the first day back from a long break, so we're going to review the basics once again."  
  
McGonagall was talking, but Draco wasn't listening. He was staring at the woman, the quill in his hand poised over a piece of parchment, but her words just weren't getting through to him.  
  
Instead, the Slytherin's mind was buzzing with thoughts of his father, of Voldemort, and even of Ron.  
  
All summer he'd been beating himself up over what he'd done to the redhead. He had secretly "dated" him for over a year, unintentionally isolated him from his friends, and then had thrown him away like yesterday's Daily Prophet.  
  
/It wasn't my fault. It was my father's. And Voldemort's. And Snape's./ Draco began to chew on the end of his sugar quill as he thought.  
  
It _wasn't_ his fault. He _hadn't_ wanted to break things off with Ron. But he'd had to, because sixth year Lucius had left home to do the Dark Lord's bidding, and because sixth year Snape had-  
  
"I'm sorry to interrupt what I'm sure are some very important and interesting thoughts, Mr. Malfoy, but would you please rejoin the class and illustrate to us the proper way to transfigure a feather into a peacock?" There were some giggles and satisfied smirks (mostly Gryffindor's) throughout the room. Draco put down his quill, picked up his wand, and prepared to endure another grueling year of school work.  
  
*****  
  
Lunch came after McGonagall's class. As soon as the professor dismissed the class, Draco gathered up his things and headed for the dungeons.  
  
He hurried down stairways and through hallways, dodging hungry students heading for the Dining Hall until he reached Snape's classroom.  
  
The room was as cold and dim as ever. The potions professor was working at his desk, looking over a pile of parchments.  
  
"Mr. Malfoy," he said in the way of a greeting, and looked up.  
  
"Professor."  
  
The blonde stayed quiet, waiting for Snape to signal that it was okay to speak freely.  
  
"Is there something you need, Mr. Malfoy?"  
  
"Lucius hasn't contacted Narcissa since he left during the summer. But the Slytherin's are talking. Their parents have told them that the Dark Lord wants to make his presence known again."  
  
Snape nodded, staying quiet.  
  
Draco, traitor to his family and spy for the Order, took a deep breath and delivered the rest of his report. 


	3. Part Three

BROKEN  
  
Author: Nox (goddess_nox@hotmail.com)  
  
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me. They belong to Rowling and Scholastic. However, this fanfic does belong to me. Please don't steal. Please don't sue.  
  
A/N: First off, I'd like to give a big THANK YOU to my reviewers. Thanks so much!! ^_^ And don't worry, this won't turn into a R/Hr. Secondly, this is a long chapter in which only about two things of significance happen. I'm not sure if I like how this is turning out. Review and tell me what you think!! Please, please review!! ^_^  
  
WARNINGS: This story contains slash. (Boy + Boy = LOVE) Meaning, a homosexual relationship.  
  
/...../ Denotes thought or dream sequence. _ABCD_ Denotes Emphasis. ****Marks scene change.  
  
Part Three:  
  
Unless it was a very warn and sunny day, or a Quiddtich game was going on, strolling around school grounds was not considered a favorable pastime.   
  
The ground was muddy and unpleasant from recent rain. Ron had to struggle to lift his tennis-shoes from the sticky muck as he walked. But he didn't care. He'd rather be out here, battling mud, than inside where it was comfortable and quiet. He could _think_ in comfortable and quiet places, and he didn't want to think.  
  
The cold, numbing wind was a welcome thing.  
  
Ron stopped walking. He began rubbing his hands together furiously, trying to get some feeling back into them. He was standing near the edge of the Forbidden Forest, a large tree to his right shading him. He stepped away from the shaded area and moved into the sun. It didn't make much of a difference.  
  
"Ron."  
  
The redhead almost jumped at the voice, but didn't. He tensed up, his fists clenching and his eyes narrowing. He didn't turn to look at the intruder. "What do you want, Draco?"  
  
"Ron I.....," the blonde trailed off, sounding lost and unsure. Ron, even though not looking at the teen, could picture Malfoy perfectly. Platinum hair blowing in the wind, robes flowing, icy eyes, and breath coming out in clouds due to the cold. "Can I talk to you?"  
  
"Sure," said Ron. /No guarantee I'll listen,/ he thought smugly.  
  
"Will you _listen_ to me? Come on, look at me Ron."  
  
/Why should I listen to you? Why?/ Thinking this, eyes still narrowed, Ron turned to face Draco. He knew he should've been storming off. He knew he shouldn't give the Slytherin the time of day, but he couldn't help it. He was curious. Draco hadn't talked to him, had hardly even _looked_ at him since that day sixth year. Why was he here now? What could the blonde possibly have of importance to say to his ex-"boyfriend"?  
  
/Probably here to laugh in my face or something. The bastard. The Death Eater bastard./  
  
There was a long silence. Draco could've been trying to decide what to say, but, mostly, it looked like he was studying Ron. Ron became nervous at this, and fidgeted. Draco's hand shot up and touched the redhead's shoulder, before quickly retreating. It was hardly anything. Just a light touch.  
  
Ron stepped back, teeth grinding. "What do you _want_?"  
  
A deep breath, and then the blonde began to speak. "Listen Ron, about sixth year, there's something you've got to understand. I didn't _want_ to hurt you. I had to. I mean, uh..."  
  
As amusing as it was to see a Malfoy stumbling over words, Ron almost immediately stopped listening. He stood there, pretending to take it in, but didn't listen. Okay, so Draco was apologizing. Sort of. So what? What did that mean?  
  
/It means he's not a Death Eater. It means he's just a plain old jerk./  
  
The belated apology only confirmed what Ron had known in the back of his mind all along. Draco wasn't a Death Eater. He hadn't "gone out" with Ron in order to spy on the Boy Who Lived or anything like that. After all, how could he be a Death Eater, when he'd helped to _capture_ a servant of Voldemort just two years before? Of course, that servant had gotten away, and this whole apology thing could just be part of a huge, evil, conspiracy.  
  
Ron, however, seriously doubted all this. The redhead had, after all, been quite intimate with Draco for about a year. He knew the blonde, at least a little bit.  
  
Eyes scanning the grounds, Ron spotted Hermione walking along the edge of the lake. A young boy was with her. From a distance the student looked something like a younger version of Viktor Krum. Ron felt a pang of hurt at this. Not because he was jealous, or because he felt any more than a brother-like love for Hermione, but because he realized he couldn't remember the last time he, Hermione, and Harry, the former Famous Trio, had spent an afternoon together.  
  
"Dammit, Weasley, are you listening to me?!"  
  
Ron, who had always been known for his short temper, grew suddenly angry. "No _Malfoy_," he said, putting a strong emphasis on the teens last name. "I'm not listening to you. I don't have to listen to you. You _broke_ up with _me_. You tore my fucking heart out, and now you're trying to apologize? Fuck you. You're not getting my forgiveness. Leave me alone."  
  
And with that, he turned to walk away, leaving Draco standing alone, mad, and hurt.  
  
Ron wasn't surprised that the thought of a hurt Draco pleased him.  
  
*****  
  
Harry Potter was mad. It was only the first day of seventh year and he'd already fought with his girlfriend and gotten into trouble with Snape. "And now my shoes are muddy."  
  
It had started that morning, while he was walking Cho to class. "Did you do your summer assignments?" He'd asked this just to make conversation. Of _course_ she'd done her assignments. She was, after all, a Ravenclaw. She'd looked up and opened her mouth to answer. Her eyes had taken him in, and that answer turned into a cry of despair. Before Harry knew what was happening, the girl was bawling.  
  
"What is it?" He was slightly irritated. The girl seemed to always be in tears.  
  
"It's just, every time I look at you now Harry. I can't help but think of Cedric. I don't know why. I just can't help it." She'd run off then, leaving Harry feeling guilty.  
  
He tried not to think about Cedric. He blamed himself for what had happened to the teen.  
  
The day, then, had continued fairly normally. Potions, his last class of the day, had been the only exception. Snape had yelled at him for one thing or another. Harry had been yelled at by Snape so many times, however, that he couldn't for the life of him remember what it had been about.  
  
After classes the bespeckled boy had decided to pay a visit to Hagrid. He'd braved the grounds only to find that Hagrid wasn't home. Thinking that perhaps the huge man was somewhere in the forest, tending to his horrid creatures, Harry was now walking just far enough in the forbidden forest that his view of the grounds was blocked by vegetation.  
  
"....there's something you've got to understand. I didn't _want_ to hurt you. I had to. I mean, uh..." It was Draco's voice. Wondering who the Slytherin scum was talking to, Harry, who had always been a great eavesdropper, stopped walking and strained his ears to listen.  
  
"I'm sorry. I can't tell you why I had to do it. I just had to." Draco paused a second before resuming his babbling.   
  
/Probably talking to Pansy./ Bored, Harry turned to leave.  
  
"Dammit, Weasley, are you listening to me?!"  
  
/Weasley? What is he doing to Ron? If he's bugging Ron I'll...do something that jerk won't enjoy. Yeah. Something./ So he wasn't the greatest threat maker. So what? He was still a _great_ eavesdropper.  
  
"No _Malfoy_. I'm not listening to you. I don't have to listen to you. You _broke_ up with _me_. You tore my fucking heart out, and now you're trying to apologize? Fuck you. You're not getting my forgiveness. Leave me alone."  
  
Harry heard Ron walk away. Daringly, the bespeckled boy peeked through the thick vegetation. He saw an unkempt Draco Malfoy staring at the fading figure of Ron. "I didn't _want_ to hurt you," said the blonde softly, before looking at one of his hands in an almost loving way. With a sigh, the Slytherin left.  
  
The Boy Who Lived was too shocked and confused to think much of anything. He stumbled out of the forest, his mouth hanging open, his eyes on the dark speck that was Ron. 


	4. Part Four

BROKEN  
  
Author: Nox (goddess_nox@hotmail.com)  
  
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me. They belong to Rowling and Scholastic. However, this fanfic does belong to me. Please don't steal. Please don't sue.  
  
A/N: Such nice and constructive reviews!! I'm very grateful!! : ) This chapter took me forever. It's pretty long, and explains many things. Hope it isn't too confusing. I think, if someone hasn't read BTS, they can read this and understand it, but I'm still unsure. Tell me if it's too confusing!! Again, I'm very grateful to all readers and reviewers!! THANK YOU!! ^_^ v  
  
WARNINGS: This story contains slash. (Boy + Boy = LOVE) Meaning, a homosexual relationship.  
  
/...../ Denotes thought or dream sequence. _ABCD_ Denotes Emphasis. ****Marks scene change.  
  
Part Four:  
  
Ginny Weasley hated her robes. Or, more precisely, she hated the robe she was currently wearing. Fred and George, now owners of a successful shop, had given the thing to her before she'd left for her sixth year. She'd been fussing with the overly long sleeves all day, pulling them up to her elbows in order to take notes only to have them fall again. It was, no doubt, another joke.  
  
/At least Harvey doesn't mind./  
  
Harvey. All summer she and the Ravenclaw had owled each other. Finally, near the end of vacation, they'd decided to become a couple again.  
  
It was no surprise, really. No matter how much she may have tried to deny it, Ginny felt close to Harvey. Even after she'd broken up with the boy they'd been close. She and the Ravenclaw had formed a sort of bond during Winter Break their fourth year.  
  
/Dammit./ Her wrists were itching, but she didn't bother to pull up her sleeves again, as it was rather breezy and cold.  
  
She noticed a figure standing just outside of the forest. /Yes, it's cold,/ she thought, starting towards the figure. /So why is he standing around outside?/  
  
"All right there, Harry?" She flashed a brilliant smile and stopped in front of the seventh year. His mouth was hanging open, as if he were in shock, and he was staring into the distance.  
  
"Oh," he said after a moment. He tore his eyes away from whatever he'd been looking at and managed a half-hearted smile. "Hello Ginny."  
  
"What are you doing out here?" The redhead felt suddenly nervous. She felt like she was intruding. She had hardly talked to Harry the last two years, and Ron didn't even seem to be very close with the boy anymore. She had no right to be nosy. /What a stupid question. He'll just ask me what _I'm_ doing out here./  
  
Harry opened his mouth as if he were going to speak, then closed it. He fidgeted a bit, shifting his weight from one foot to another and glancing past Ginny, in the direction of the castle. "I was just going to visit Hagrid." He stopped, frowned, and narrowed his eyes. "No," he said, firmly and suddenly, looking like he was trying to get up enough nerve to do something drastic.  
  
"What is it Harry?"  
  
"It's Ron," said the teen. "I need to talk to you about Ron."  
  
*****  
  
During Winter Break their fifth year Ron and Malfoy had been stalked and attacked by a first year named John. John had turned out to be the son of Macnair, a Death Eater who'd been sent to execute Buckbeak, Hagrid's hippogriff, just a few years before. The young servant of Voldemort, hidden beneath dark robes, had knocked the two fifth years from their brooms, hit Ron with a powerful spell and had generally tormented and tried to kill the Gryffindor and Slytherin all break.  
  
In the end John had managed to lead Ron into the Forbidden Forest, where he'd intended to kill the redhead. Draco had come to the youngest Weasley brother's rescue, and Dumbledore had then been faced with the question of what one did with an eleven-year-old Death Eater whose father, also a Death Eater, was already in possession of the law.  
  
The Headmaster never figured out an answer, as not even an hour after being caught John had disappeared. Poof, and he was gone.  
  
Or so Dumbledore had said.  
  
Ginny had been involved in that little misadventure due to the facts that she herself had nailed Ron with a spell that break (she preferred not to talk about that), and that Harvey, who had been new to Hogwarts and her boyfriend then, had been Malfoy and Ron's prime suspect. The older boys had believed, reasonably, that Harvey (a troublemaker at his last school) was working for Voldemort. The night before Christmas Eve disaster had ensued, and Ginny had endured all of it with Harvey (who was innocent) at her side.  
  
When it was all over Dumbledore had asked every student who'd been involved not to mention the event to anyone else. Ginny hadn't been sure at the time that it was right to keep Ron's almost-murder a secret from everyone but, certain that the wise Headmaster had reasons for everything, hadn't told a soul about that Winter Break. And, considering the lack of Voldemort related disaster, hadn't had the urge to tell anyone in a very long time.  
  
"I need to talk to you about Ron."  
  
"Ron? What about him?" Harry looked serious, but doubtful. As if he wasn't sure he should be talking to the redhead about....whatever he was trying to talk to her about.  
  
"Have you noticed anything weird about him?" Ginny, smirking slightly, opened her mouth to reply, the _perfect_ response to that question on her mind. Harry cut her off before she could speak. "I mean, he's just been acting really different for a long while now." He looked at her, green eyes narrowed and intense. "I'm worried about him, Ginny."  
  
The genuine concern in those green eyes made all thoughts of joking disappear. Harry seemed really upset.  
  
"I never see him anymore, and I never see Hermione anymore. It's my fault. I was so wrapped up in Cho and wanting to become an Auror that I never stopped to think about my friends. Or about my _former_ friends. Ginny, I saw Ron still sleeping this morning. It was nearly time for classes....I didn't even bother to nudge him awake. What kind of a friend is that? I didn't even notice something might be wrong until...today."  
  
Harry sounded so very wounded and disappointed in himself that Ginny didn't even stop to think before she opened her mouth, trying to be helpful. "I've noticed Ron is different Harry, but don't worry. It's got nothing to do with anything you did or didn't do. He had all that trouble his fifth year during winter break, you know? He just got a little shaken. He'll be..." She trailed off, the words she had just said registering in her brain.   
  
/Oh. No./  
  
Almost two years of keeping a secret, and now this. Without any thought of consequences, without any thought of the promise she had made to Dumbledore, she'd opened her big mouth, ruining everything.   
  
Her eyes grew wide with shock, and she took a step back, away from Harry. /Maybe he didn't notice. Maybe he wasn't listening./  
  
No such luck. The concern in those eyes turned quickly to suspicion. Harry took a step towards Ginny. "Fifth year? Break?" He shook his head, trying to remember. "Trouble?"   
  
"Er..." The youngest Weasley would've gladly smacked herself on the head with her wand at that moment. Hard. Very hard.  
  
The seventh year seemed to be towering over her. "Ginny. Tell me what happened." It wasn't a suggestion.  
  
The girl didn't know what to do. This was Harry Potter. He'd uncovered many secret evil plots throughout the years. He'd gone up against Voldemort himself without being killed. Not knowing what to say, her mouth began opening and closing like a fish. /Would running away make this worse?/  
  
Harry lost his patience. "Tell me-"  
  
"Ginny! Ginny!" Harvey Williams was running frantically towards them. It took him only a few seconds to reach his girlfriend's side. He stayed hunched, panting heavily.  
  
Ginny, saved by the yell, grabbed the Ravenclaw's arm. "What is it Harvey?"  
  
"I've been looking for you everywhere." Having caught his breath, the sixth year looked up, nodding a hello to Harry.   
  
"Why?" Ginny's grip on her boyfriend's arm tightened slightly. She glanced at Harry, noticing he looked more than a little annoyed at the intrusion. "What's wrong?"  
  
"There's been an attack."  
  
"An attack?" Ginny said this, surprised.  
  
"Some girl heard the professors talking. The muggle train station has been destroyed. Along with Platform nine and three quarters. Everyone at the station was killed. Some Death Eaters did it."  
  
Harry clenched his fists so tightly Ginny was surprised when he didn't start bleeding. "If that's not a declaration of war," he said, "I don't know what is."  
  
*****  
  
Only Dumbledore and Snape knew of Draco's alliance to the Order. The Headmaster himself had asked the blonde for help far into sixth year, right after the teen had gone through a particularly nasty fight with Ron.  
  
Draco had been in bed, staring up at the uninteresting ceiling and chewing on a sugar quill (he rather liked those things). He was just beginning to consider leaving the sixth year dorm and joining the other Slytherins in the common room when Snape had burst through the door.  
  
"The Headmaster wants to see you," he'd said.  
  
What had followed was a meeting with Dumbledore that had changed the teens life. Dumbledore had wanted him to be a member of the Order. Had wanted him to spy on his own family and friends. The bearded wizard had told him all of this with hardly a twitch. As if asking the son of Lucius Malfoy, one of the most feared Death Eaters, to join the Order of the Phoenix, was the most natural thing in the world.  
  
"What about fifth year? I saved Ron Weasley from John Macnair that year. Macnair might've told Voldemort what I did. Voldemort might already know that...that I helped one of Potter's friends."  
  
It was true. Draco had worried about going home the summer following fifth year and being nailed with the killing curse by his father. Even then, standing in front of Dumbledore, the blonde had worried that one of Voldemort's followers would pop out of an unlikely hiding place and hit him with a spell. Why shouldn't they? He'd _helped_ a friend of Harry Potter.   
  
"Mr. Malfoy, I am asking you to do this _because_ of what happened fifth year. I am asking you to do this _because_ I'm sure your father has connections with Voldemort. I've asked no other students. Now," said the old wizard, eyes twinkling, "Will you help me?"  
  
Looking back on it, Draco couldn't understand why he'd agreed to join the Order. No other students, not even the famous Harry Potter, were members. His father was a high-ranking follower of the Dark Lord. He would be betraying his family and friends...There were so many reasons _not_ to join.  
  
But Draco had agreed. And he often regretted his decision.  
  
"What were you thinking?" Snape yelled this, eyes wide with rage. The greasy-haired Professor had pulled Draco into his office the moment the blonde had entered the school. Apparently, Snape had spotted him with Ron.  
  
"Have you hit your _head_ recently? Talking to Ron Weasley? _Why_ would you talk to him? What could you possibly have to say to that boy?"  
  
Memories of soft, yielding lips, pleading eyes, and slim hands enveloped in his own sprang to the forefront of Draco's mind at Snape's words.   
  
/I wanted to tell him that I care for him. That I never meant to hurt him./  
  
And this was the truth. The same day Dumbledore had asked Draco to become a spy for the Order, the secret relationship between the blonde and the redhead had ended.  
  
Draco had, earlier that day, gotten into an argument with the Weasel. Something about calling Hermione a mudblood. It wouldn't have been a big deal, if it had been any other day, and not the day Draco was recruited by the Headmaster. With the Slytherin's mouth and the Gryffindor's temper, the two were often fighting, only to make up again.  
  
That night, as usual, Draco had met Ron. This time it was in the hallway right outside of the Owlery. Ron was a few minutes late, but he showed. No matter what the situation, he'd _always_ shown for their meetings. He'd appeared wearing a hand-me-down sweater and a pair of slightly worn pants.  
  
He'd stopped and stood in a patch of moonlight that had managed to make it through a nearby window. He'd looked unreal.  
  
"Listen," the redhead had started, probably planning to apologize. But Draco had raised a hand to silence the other teen before walking over to that bit of moonlight himself.  
  
Draco hadn't spoken at first. He'd pulled a surprised Ron into a crushing hug, clenching the ugly sweater and enjoying the feel of that red hair tickling his neck. He'd smiled to himself, remembering when Ron had towered over _him_. Remembering the constant bickering they'd once engaged in. Remembering back to fifth year when Ron had stopped getting taller, and remembering when they'd first kissed...  
  
Then the platinum haired teen had frowned, pushed the redhead away, and had proceeded to "break up" with only person he'd ever _really_ cared about.  
  
"Mr. Malfoy, are you listening? Have you heard a word of what I've said?" Snape looked absolutely livid. Snape had never acted this way towards the blonde before he'd joined the Order. Or before he'd saved Ron.  
  
"Yes, every word," he answered.  
  
"You-" Snape began, but was cut off by a loud knock on the door. "What is it?"  
  
Professor McGonagall walked in. "Severus, the Headmaster wishes to see all of the Professors. Something dreadful has happened." She stopped, eyes darting to the seventh year Slytherin.  
  
"Well? What is it?" Snape bared his teeth, more angry then he'd been in a very long time. It seemed his best student was turning into a fool. Saving that Weasley in his fifth year, putting himself in mortal danger by joining the Order sixth year (although, Snape had to admit, that could, by some, be considered brave rather than foolish), and now talking with Ron Weasley in public for no apparent reason. Was he looking to blow his cover? Was he looking to get himself killed by his ass of a father? Was he trying to make _friends_ with Weasley?  
  
It made no sense.  
  
"There's been an attack," said McGonagall, and all thoughts of foolish students and jilted, redheaded boyfriends left the room. "It's Voldemort. He's back."  
  
*****  
  
Ron heard about the attack on the train station at dinner. His stew had gotten cold by the time Neville had finished telling him all of the details, and all of the rumors.   
  
A large number of owls flew into the Dining Hall that night, most carrying letters from concerned parents asking their children to write them, some carrying letters telling children they'd be leaving Hogwarts, and going home.  
  
"Got a letter from home," Ginny said sometime in the midst of the meal. She waved a piece of parchment in Ron's general direction before opening and reading it herself. Ron shook his head when she asked if he'd like to read it. He could guess what was on it. His parents would write that he and Ginny were, of course, to stay at Hogwarts. It was after all, with Dumbledore there, supposedly the safest place in the wizarding world.   
  
Ron didn't feel it was necessary to remind his parents of his dreadful first through fourth years at Hogwarts. And he felt it was even less necessary to tell them about the incident during fifth year Winter Break, something Dumbledore himself, for fear of panicking people, had asked to be kept under wraps. He didn't feel as if any of this were necessary, but he also didn't feel like reading any of that "safest place in the wizarding world" crap, either. Even if it was his parents who'd written it.  
  
The youngest Weasley brother didn't notice the odd and slightly concerned look Ginny gave him as she was putting the letter away.  
  
Ron expected to hear Dumbledore speak sometime during the meal. He'd probably stand up and say something comforting, or foreboding. And while waiting for Dumbledore to say something, the redhead figured it was as good a time as any to try and rekindle the Famous Trio's friendship. Because, as horrible as it sounded, disaster seemed to have brought them together. Maybe they could crack this case of evil too, just like in the old days.  
  
Ron began with talking to Harry, who was sitting directly across from him. The Boy Who Lived merely gave him nervous glances and quick, one-word answers to questions before mumbling something about homework and getting up to leave.   
  
/Homework? Who gets homework on the first day of school?/ Maybe he just didn't want to talk to the redhead. Or maybe he was becoming like Hermione, who always seemed to have homework the first day of classes.   
  
Hermione.  
  
The girl was also sitting across from him. She had her head bowed over her stew, which she was picking at with her spoon. The stacks of books that seemed to always surround her were absent.  
  
"Hey Herm," tried Ron, putting on a smile.  
  
She looked up, but it was as if she was looking _through_ him, rather than _at_ him. "Ron," she said, her voice completely void of either coldness or friendliness. She glanced at the muggle watch on her wrist and stood. "I've got to go to the library."  
  
And with that, she was gone. Ron could hardly believe it. The friends he remembered were, apparently, no more. Harry seemed to have let the fame and the pretty girlfriend get to his head. Hermione seemed to have left her head completely. Or maybe they were just like that with him. He had, after all, been the one to break up the friendship.  
  
It wasn't their fault. It was his.  
  
Ron sat in the Dining Hall until dinner was over. Dumbledore didn't make a speech.  
  
He navigated the stairways easily, arriving in the Gryffindor common room just before curfew. He trudged up to the seventh year dorms.  
  
"Hey Ron," said Neville when he walked in. "There's an owl for you."  
  
Ron saw the school owl on his bed, a small, rolled up piece of parchment tied with a bit of string hanging from one of its feet. The redhead took the message and watched the owl fly out one of the windows before unrolling the parchment.  
  
He gasped, surprised.  
  
"What is it?" Neville asked this. Seamus looked up from his Transfiguration textbook, obviously curious about what was wrong.  
  
"Nothing," Ron answered, and looked back down at the words scribbled on the parchment:  
  
MIDNIGHT. QUIDDITCH FIELD. MEET ME. 


	5. Part Five

BROKEN  
  
Author: Nox (goddess_nox@hotmail.com)  
  
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me. They belong to Rowling and Scholastic. However, this fanfic does belong to me. Please don't steal. Please don't sue.  
  
A/N: Triple thank you's to those who read and reviewed! It's taking me a looong time to get these chapters out. I'm sorry!! I'd really like to know how you all think it's turning out! Any suggestions on what it could use (plot? boy/boy action? are Draco and Ron too OOC?) ? I'd love to hear from you guys!! Thanks again to the reviewers!! See you next chap. ^_^v  
  
WARNINGS: This story contains slash. (Boy + Boy = LOVE) Meaning, a homosexual relationship.  
  
/...../ Denotes thought or dream sequence. _ABCD_ Denotes Emphasis. ****Marks scene change.  
  
Part Five:  
  
It was nearly midnight. In bed, Draco closed light eyes and strained his ears for sounds of wakefulness from his dorm mates.  
  
There was nothing but Goyle's loud snoring and Blaise Zabini, who's bed was to the right of the blonde's, muttering in his sleep.  
  
Opening his eyes, Draco unrolled and smoothed out the slightly crinkled bit of parchment he'd had clenched in his fist. A school owl had delivered the note to him just after dinner, while he'd been attempting to perfect his feather-to-peacock spell (damn that McGonagall, anyway). He could still make no sense out of the words scribbled onto the parchment.  
  
MIDNIGHT. QUIDDITCH FIELD. MEET ME.  
  
What did it mean? Who was it from?  
  
Was it Ron? Had the Gryffindor decided to let Draco say what he needed to say? Because the platinum haired teen definitely needed to say something to the redhead.  
  
It was why, when he'd spotted the youngest Weasley brother strolling around school grounds, he'd tried to talk to him. It was why Draco had driven himself to insanity that past summer trying to figure out things like "right", "love", and "secrecy".  
  
Draco had decided to tell Ron all about his meeting with Dumbledore that day during sixth year, and had decided to tell him about all of the spying on his family and deceiving-of-friends he'd done. He'd decided to tell Ron that he was fighting _against_ the darkness.  
  
It didn't matter that it would compromise his safety, or the "mission" itself. All that mattered was having Ron understand that he hadn't meant to hurt him.   
  
All that mattered was Ron.  
  
****  
  
/Of all places to meet, why the field?/  
  
Draco had encountered no problems leaving the Slytherin dorms. He'd hurried through the dank bowels of the castle, out the main doors, and was now trudging towards the Quidditch field. His soft breathing seemed very loud in the still quiet of the night. He imagined he could hear the steady beat of his heart within his chest.  
  
/Ugh./ He avoided a particularly muddy bit of ground before continuing on his way.  
  
Meeting at the Quidditch Field made no sense.  
  
Draco's thoughts flashed back to McGonagall's words: "Voldemort is back." The blonde shuddered.  
  
Of _course_ Voldemort was back. He'd known Voldemort was back and scheming for a long time. He'd even secretly joined in the fight against the Dark Lord. And what good had come of it? A train station had been destroyed. Several witches, wizards, and muggles had been killed.  
  
This was something big. Something horrible and huge and Draco Malfoy, spy for the Order and son of Lucius Malfoy, hadn't even seen it coming. Of what use was the teen to the side of the light if he couldn't help to prevent something like the attack on the station?  
  
Distractedly, he wondered if Dumbledore would be casting some sort of memory charm on him before kicking him to the curb, back into the unmerciful clutches of his father.  
  
/Father./ Draco's hand slipped into his pocket, finding and gripping the small piece of parchment placed there. It could be absolutely anyone, wanting to meet with him at the field. It could be his father, ready to drag Draco away to receive the Dark Mark (which he had, thankfully, avoided getting thus far). Or it could be his father and a pack of his fellow Death Eater's, ready to pounce and kill Draco, having found out he was a traitor. Yes, it could be anyone waiting for him at the field.  
  
Draco shuddered once more.  
  
*****  
  
The sky overhead was anything but clear. Stars and moon were blocked from sight by thick clouds. So, as it was, Draco did not see the figure seated in the Gryffindor stands by the light of the sky, but instead by the light of the figure's glowing wand.  
  
Draco hesitated at first, eyeing the stands of his rival House in distaste, before sprinting up, and towards Ron, who seemed to be waving his lighted wand about in a bored fashion.  
  
When the blonde reached the youngest Weasley brother he sat down directly behind him and gazed down at the red head of hair, saying nothing. Seeing as how Ron was the one who had summoned _him_, he'd allow the Gryffindor to speak first.  
  
There was a long, tense silence. Ron stopped waving his wand.  
  
Draco was thinking meeting his angry father here, along with a pack of bloodthirsty Death Eater's might've just been a step up from the tense silence between he and the other teen, when Ron spoke.  
  
"What is it you wanted to say to me, Draco?"  
  
The platinum haired sixth year sat up straighter, stomach seeming to suddenly clench with nervousness. He'd noticed the slip. Ron had called him by his first name. And even though the redhead's voice sounded cold and distant, first names meant Ron wasn't ready to claw at his throat. Yet.  
  
Draco didn't say anything at first. He simply stared down at the red hair, thinking of the past and future. Thinking. Ron had just started to shift restlessly when Draco's light eyes narrowed. His body tensed.   
  
This wasn't him. Draco Malfoy was no nervous wreck. Draco Malfoy was not one to be overly emotional. He was not one to tiptoe around, afraid of what everyone would think. Afraid of what consequences every little action might bring. No, Draco Malfoy did what he wanted and got what he wanted. No matter what. Right now he wanted Ron.  
  
"I joined Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix during sixth year. I'm a spy." He snorted, seemingly disgusted with himself. "Not a very good one. I didn't know about the attack on the station. I knew Voldemort was planning something big, something to declare war on both wizards and muggles, but...." He trailed off and paused for a moment before starting again. "It's why I stopped what was going on between us. It wasn't to hurt you. It wasn't because I didn't lo...It wasn't because I wasn't fond of you anymore."  
  
There was no answer. Well, what had he expected, anyway? For Ron to believe him? Hell, he probably wouldn't have believed something like that. What had he been expecting?  
  
Draco felt terrible. The silence continued. He thought perhaps it was time to take his leave when he noticed that Ron's slight frame was shaking. Barely noticeable, but definitely shaking.   
  
Slowly and unsure, he reached out a hand and placed it on one narrow shoulder. Ron turned, eyes misty. He wasn't crying. Not exactly. "I want to believe you," he said.  
  
Draco couldn't help himself. He bent lower until he could feel Ron's breath against his lips. Then, he went for it. First, he let his tongue trace the redhead's lower lip timidly. He was looking for permission. Ron gave it to him.  
  
Soon, Draco's tongue was delving into the Gryffindor's mouth. Ron moaned before responding. They kissed passionately, Draco's hand moved from shoulder to waist. He needed to lift that t-shirt. He needed to _feel_ the skin he'd so missed. God, Ron tasted-  
  
"Sorry to interrupt you two, but I'd really like to know what the _hell_ is going on." Harry Potter, having appeared out of thin air, was standing on the stands beside them. And, though Draco wasn't absolutely sure, he thought the teen didn't look at all sorry about interrupting them.  
  
*****  
  
Ron had thought that invisible cloak was trouble the first time he'd laid eyes on it.   
  
Well, maybe that wasn't exactly true.  
  
Well....maybe that wasn't true at all.  
  
Whatever the case, the invisibility cloak was certainly a load of trouble _now_. The redhead could make out a faint outline of the cloak grasped tightly in Harry's hand.  
  
Harry. Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, was standing before he and Draco, wearing a determined expression.  
  
Ron was surprised the teen's expression wasn't one of anger or disgust. Really surprised.  
  
Draco straightened, his hands leaving Ron. He looked anxious and undecided. Ron realized the blonde didn't know what to do.  
  
"What are you doing here, Potter? What do you want?" Draco spat this out, sounding venomous.  
  
Harry glared at the Slytherin. "Shut it, Malfoy. I just listened to you confess that you're working for Dumbledore and watched you have a snog-session with Ron. I've got plenty of ammunition. Don't make me mad."  
  
Draco mumbled something under his breath, but quickly became silent. Both he and Ron sat, waiting.  
  
"Tell me what's going on," Harry repeated after a moment of quiet.  
  
Draco, looking as if he was trying not to clench his teeth, narrowed his eyes. "Seems to me like you know exactly what's going on. You just said you heard and saw everything."  
  
Before Harry could reply to that, Ron spoke up. "What do you want to know, Harry?"  
  
The Gryffindor Seeker turned to his once close friend, his expression softening. "Ron...Both of you. Tell me about fifth year."  
  
Both Draco and Ron tensed immediately. The redhead gripped his wand so tightly he imagined he felt the wood give a bit. Draco's clean, short nails dug deeply into his palms, making grooves.  
  
"I heard you two talking near the forest. Then I ran into Ginny and she let something slip. Something about our fifth year. What happened?"  
  
Draco shouted. "Ginny!"  
  
Ron shook his head. "No one's supposed to know, Harry. No one's supposed to know."  
  
Harry's voice rose a notch. He sounded dangerous. "There has to be a reason you're making out with the guy you enjoyed seeing turned into a ferret fourth year, Ron. _Something_ happened fifth year. And if it had anything to do with me, or with Voldemort, I have the right to know. Tell me."  
  
Harry seemed calm, but angry. Ron was in shock. He was scared. His former best friend, a guy who had gone up against You-Know-Who himself, had just witnessed him kissing the son of a very powerful Death Eater. And not only that. Harry knew about fifth year. Or, at least, Harry knew that something had happened during fifth year, and knew that Ron hadn't told him about it. The redhead felt guilty and sick. He could feel a headache coming on. A vague pain slowly building around his temples.  
  
Rubbing at his forehead, Ron suddenly became still, realizing something. "Harry. You sent me that message, didn't you?"  
  
Harry nodded.  
  
Ron pressed on. "You sent Draco one, too?"  
  
Another nod.  
  
Ron's shoulders slumped. It figured. So Draco hadn't sent the message, after all. He should've known the blonde didn't care enough to do something like that. He wiped at his mouth with the sleeve of his jacket, his mind screaming. /I was so stupid./ He decided not to think about the fact that Draco _had_ tried to talk to him near the forest, and decided to ponder on the fact that the blonde was risking his life as a spy for the Order, later. /So stupid./  
  
Harry came, finally, to the end of his patience. "I said tell me what happened fifth year."  
  
"I can't tell you," said Ron, softly. He stood and stuck his wand into his back pocket. He looked up to meet his friend's hurt, emerald green eyes and almost flinched. It wasn't that he wanted to leave Harry clueless. He'd tell Harry later, as soon as he had a talk with Dumbledore. Or maybe he wouldn't even talk to the old headmaster. Maybe he'd tell Harry in the morning, during breakfast. Maybe he'd tell Hermione, too. Just not right now. His head was pounding. His heart was aching. He felt slightly hostile towards the Boy Who Lived. It was him, after all, who had made Ron's hopes flare with that message. /But it was me who was stupid./  
  
Ron turned to leave. "Ron...," said Harry, but the redhead, even hearing the obvious distress in Harry's voice, did not turn back. He could still clearly hear the voices of the other two teens as he reached the bottom of the stands.  
  
"Malfoy, tell me what happened fifth year."  
  
"I think you'd best ask Dumbledore about it, Potter."  
  
Ron didn't hear anymore. Headache steadily growing worse, he hurried towards the Gryffindor House. The attack on the station, Harry finding out, Draco kissing him... Too much had happened, and it was hours before only the second day of classes. Ron wanted to rest. He wanted to sleep.  
  
He suspected he would need the rest. Something big was coming. 


	6. Part Six

BROKEN

Author: Nox (goddess underscore nox at hotmail dot com)

Notes: Hello, I'm back! - Ducks all tomatoes and unpleasant things being thrown at her - I'm really sorry about the delay. I don't think I can apologize enough for how long it took me to get this chap out. First, it was b/c I was trying to write chaps for my other fic, then it was b/c of laziness, then it was b/c I was starting at and moving into a University in another city...But I won't bother you w/ any more excuses. I'd just like to say I'm sorry, and that I'm EXTREMELY grateful for ALL reviews received for previous chapters. Oh, and to the reviewer Daraas Mire who came up with a brilliant guess of the plot I'd like to say that I loved reading the idea, and that I'm nowhere near smart enough to come w/ something like that . Or am I...? ; ) Hmmm..read and see! I'll try to write faster! And thanks again to all reviewers and readers! Y'all are the best! : )

Xtra Note: The old signs I used to indicate emphasis, or scene breaks, aren't showing up anymore. So now (if this works) emphasis will be in italics, and scene change will be marked by a bunch of these --. Hope it works!

Part Six:

The "something big" that Ronald Weasley was so sure was coming was not, in the redhead's opinion, coming quite soon enough.

It had been over a week since he'd encountered both Harry and Draco on the Quidditch field, and the time had passed painfully.

Classes were hell. The youngest Weasley brother had just barely scraped by in his sixth year, thanks to his dreadful "break up" with a certain blonde Slytherin, and was now paying for the slacking he'd done. Some of the spells, charms, and ogre wars the professors were now going on about seemed completely unfamiliar.

And then there was Harry. The Boy Who Lived cornered Ron whenever possible. During classes, after classes, between classes...He was always _there_, poking and prodding and demanding to know what had happened during winter break their fifth year. The redhead felt cold, and sad, and ugly inside when, having been refused any information yet again, the brunette's emerald eyes would scream "I feel hurt and betrayed".

He almost wished Harry would go to Dumbledore, reveal that something had managed to slip about fifth year, and have the old Headmaster explain everything to him. Almost.

Because that would mean a very upset old wizard, who would no longer feel secure when it came to a certain four students and secrets. /Then again, is it wise to have kept my almost-murder a secret in the first place?/

The redhead dismissed his doubts quickly. Dumbledore had wise and sensible reasons for everything. Even if it didn't seem that way sometimes. He had reasons.

-----

Draco Malfoy was seriously considering the possibility that Dumbledore, Snape, and everyone else involved in the "keep John Macnair's little almost-killing spree a secret" fiasco were complete imbeciles.

/Including me./

What was the use of having kept something like that a secret? Sure, it prevented more panic. But wasn't being panicky and cautious a whole lot better than being dead? Dead like the people, muggle and wizard kind alike, that had been in the train station?

Maybe having news of John Macnair splashed across the front page of the Daily Prophet would not have been such a bad thing. Maybe it would have prevented the station attack.

/It doesn't matter,/ thought the platinum haired teen sullenly. /Either way, I'm responsible./

He could've said something about Macnair, and he should've, as a spy for the Order, known something about the train station attack. He was guilty on both of those counts.

"I'm responsible," he said, and stopped walking. Sunlight streamed in through a large, nearby window and he squinted at the view of the Hogwart's grounds. He could make out the lake, just barely, from where he was standing. And a pleasant memory, involving both the lakeside and Ron, came to him unbidden. God, Ron...

"For what?"

Draco's heart jumped within his chest. He spun around to see Harry Potter coming down the hall, a determined and angry gleam in his green eyes. He stopped in front of the blonde. They were eye to eye.

"Huh?" asked Draco, quite stupidly. He was still surprised to be staring at The Boy Who Was An Ass when just a moment ago he'd been basking in sunlight and daydreaming of his lo...er, like.

"What are you responsible for, Malfoy?" The brunette's fists were tightly clenched.

Easily falling back into the old routine of "I hate Potter and he hates me", the Slytherin sneered. "Either go ask Dumbledork about it or go stick something were the sun most definitely doesn't shine, Potter. I won't tell you shit."

Harry's eyes suddenly glowed anger. His whole body tensed. His teeth grinded. Draco found himself being shoved up against a stone wall. Potter's hands were at his throat. Draco, with his own not-too-shabby strength, removed those hands. They stared at each other. Measured each other up. Then Potter exploded.

"Dammit, Malfoy. _Tell_ me. Just please, please tell me what happened fifth year. Tell me what happened while I was gone winter break. Tell me."

The blonde pursed his lips for a moment, making them thin. Potter had never told him, of all people, please. "Why should I tell you?"

The Gryffindor seemed to be on the verge of spitting out very mean words in Draco's direction, but contained himself. "One, you should tell me because when bad events take place they always circle back around to me anyway. Two, you should tell me because Ron is my _friend_, and I want to help him. Three, you should tell me because I want to help Ron and I know, for some weird reason, you two are...attached. You want to help him, too."

"You know," said Draco, "two of those are pretty much the same reason. And me and the little red are not attached. And it doesn't seem to me like the two of you have been the best of friends..." He trailed off, not wanting to push too far. The Boy Who Lived fought for the side of the light, and did the right thing most of the time, but he was anything but flawless. Draco did not fancy the thought of one of the Gryffindor's flaws being getting in (yet another) fierce physical fight with him.

Ron wouldn't be pleased with that.

Harry blinked. "Not attached? You just called him little red! And you're _Malfoy_."

Draco sighed. "Listen Potter, why don't you just go to the Headmaster?" He didn't want to deal with this. Not now. Most definitely not now.

"Because..." Harry trailed off. His whole body was tense and his eyes had a far away look to them. "Because I want Ron to tell me. Going to ask Dumbledore would be like betraying him."

Draco's eyes grew wide. He didn't quite understand. "Then why are you asking _me_?"

Potter shrugged and ran fingers through his shaggy, dark hair. "Er...Well, you're like his boyfriend right? I reckoned he wouldn't mind as much if I got _you_ to tell me."

Okay, so he really didn't understand. "Boyfriend?" Draco tried to ignore the sour and sweet feelings that simple word managed to illicit when associated with the scarlet haired Gryffindor. "I don't know what you're talking about." The blonde managed an unbelieving snort. "Boyfriend. Really."

The Boy Who Lived slammed a fist into the wall right next to Draco's head. "Look, Malfoy. I don't care that Ron and you are gay. Ron's my friend. Hell, I'd be willing to excuse the fact that he chose you, of all people, to like. All I want to know is what happened during winter break fifth year." He leaned in close, but his voice stayed clear and fierce. "I know that you're gay, I know that you like a Weasley, I know that you're working for the Order. Now tell me what happened, or I'm going to do some real damage with that information."

Stunned and beyond anger, Draco opened his mouth to speak. However, before the teen could produce anything more than a disbelieving squeak, there was the sound of footsteps.

Both Potter and Malfoy glanced towards the end of the hallway just in time to make out the flowing ends of a dark robe disappearing around the corner.

The steps sped up before quickly fading away.

"Oh," said Harry, "bloody hell."

"At least nobody got a spell in the chest this time," said Draco.

Harry just blinked at him.


	7. Part Seven

BROKEN

Author: Nox (goddess underscore nox at hotmail dot com)

Notes: Another chapter! Yay! A million and a half thank you's to reviewers. Reviewers are the most wonderful people in the world. : ) In this chap there is discussion, action, and more mystery. Look out for next chapter, in which things heat up both figuratively and literally!

More Notes: Next chap may take a while, as I don't plan to update this fic until after I've updated my other fic (Fall From Grace). But I will write as quickly and wonderfully (yeah, right) as I can! :)

Italics stand for emphasis and --- stands for scene breaks

Part Seven:

"Real damage?" demanded Ron, looking hurt. "You were going to do _damage_ with the information you'd managed to get out of us if Draco didn't tell you what happened?" The redhead shook his head. "Really Harry. I thought I knew you."

"I wouldn't have _really_ done anything, Ron. I just wanted to know about fifth year." Harry, feeling embarrassed, rubbed at the back of his head.

"So you were _lying_?" This from Draco, who was standing inappropriately close to the youngest Weasley brother and looking quite smug.

"Maybe we shouldn't be talking about this right now." The Boy Who Lived peered suspiciously around the large tree they were all concealed behind. He saw groups of seventh year Slytherins and Gryffindors making their way across the Hogwarts' grounds and towards Hagrid's hut, their Care of Magical Creatures texts in hand. "Maybe we should meet somewhere after classes."

"I can't," said Draco, absently stroking the spine of his own copy of _The Monster Book of Monsters_. "I shouldn't even be here now. I just thought that Ron should know that you'd screwed everything up. And, since you'd screwed everything up, I thought Ron might decide to tell you about winter break."

Harry was angry, but managed to let Malfoy's comment slide. They didn't have time for arguments. They were going to be late for class. And Harry _desperately_ didn't want to flunk out in his seventh year, on the verge of becoming eligible to be trained as an Auror. "We _have_ to meet. I need to know the whole story."

"You do. We just told you," said Malfoy. The blonde passingly wondered what Snape would do should he spot him now, talking to _both_ Harry Potter and his number one sidekick. The Professor would probably murder the teen, on the grounds of sheer stupidity.

"I do?" asked Harry. "You two got chased and tormented by some mysterious figure all winter break, who turned out to be Macnair, who ended up getting away?" The bespectacled teen took a deep breath. "That's it? That's the whole story?"

Both Ron and Malfoy nodded their heads.

"Well what happened to Macnair, and why didn't any of you tell anyone what had happened?"

"Macnair disappeared," answered Malfoy.

"Dumbledore didn't _want _us to tell," replied Ron.

"What?" asked Harry, quite confused. How on earth could Macnair just disappear? And why would Dumbledore try to keep the event under wraps? "You mean John Macnair disappeared right under Dumbledore's nose?"

"That's right."

"We're going to be late," said Malfoy, also peaking out from behind the large tree he and Harry had pulled Ron behind when they'd spotted him on his way to Hagrid's hut. They'd both decided Ron needed to know that they'd been overheard by someone, and that Harry should probably know what had happened fifth year. They'd waited until Ron had come marching out of the castle, then had grabbed the redhead and "forced" him behind the large trunk. The meeting had turned into a rather long question and answer session. Draco certainly didn't mind being around Ron. He just didn't want to be spotted. "I'll go first. You guys wait a minute, then come out."

"Sure," said Harry, sounding anything but pleased.

Malfoy ignored him, slipped around the trunk, and walked away.

"So," said Ron, timidly. Harry turned to look at him, his expression softening. The redhead looked up at him guiltily. "You're not angry?"

"I told you I wasn't." The boy smiled. "At least he's not _really_ a Death Eater."

Ron snorted. "Sorry I didn't tell you about fifth year sooner."

"No problem. I know how manipulative Dumbledore can be. It's just weird that he would keep something like that a secret, isn't it? I mean, you were almost _killed_."

The redhead, clueless as to what went on in their Headmaster's head, shrugged. "Come on. We're going to be late."

They both stepped out, as inconspicuously as possible, from behind the tree and started towards Hagrid's little abode.

"Hey," said Harry. "Have you seen Cho around?"

"No, why?"

"I kind of need to talk to her."

Ron rolled his eyes. "You are _so_ whipped."

Harry raised an eyebrow, but didn't reply.

-----

/Remember,/ thought Ron, standing next to Harry with his arms crossed. /He's an asshole./ The redhead glared in the direction of Draco, who had slipped off his robes due to the heat and was dressed only in his black slacks and white, long sleeved shirt. The blonde had loosed his tie and undone the first two buttons of his shirt.

Ron was trying very hard not to look at the bit of flesh Draco had exposed, and was heatedly reminding himself that there was no reason in hell he should forgive the platinum-haired teen for what he'd done, when Hagrid cleared his throat (quite loudly) in an effort to get the classes' attention.

"Today," said the half-giant, "we'll be lookin' at flobberworms."

"Flobberworms?" asked Lavender Brown, looking down at her clean, stylish robes sadly. "Haven't we already covered them?"

Ron couldn't help but agree with the girl. After Draco had gotten attacked by that hippogriff third year, the half-giant's students had all had enough information about flobberworms stuffed into their heads to last several lifetimes.

Hagrid explained that it was a refreshment lesson. It being their last year, he wanted to be sure they still remembered the basics. There were groans and murmured complaints, but the group of seventh years soon shuffled over to the crates of mud Hagrid had lined up along his hut.

"Hey Herm," said Ron, kneeling next to the crate his friend (maybe former friend?) had chosen. She looked up at him and smiled.

"Hello Ron. Sorry I haven't had a chance to speak to you or Harry much." She stuck both hands into the crate and began to shift the mud, looking for worms. "I'm taking a lot of classes."

Harry came and sat next to them, grinning.

Ron, deciding not to ask _the_ Hermione Grangerwhat she considered to be a lot of classes, turned to the green eyed teen. "What are you smiling about?"

"Nothing," said Harry. "Just thinking about Cho."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I'll bet you are," she said.

Feeling much better than he had all year, Ron beamed. The famous trio was talking again. Maybe things would get better, after all.

/If only I could stop thinking about Malfoy./ Almost against his will, the redhead turned to where Draco was sitting with Pansy and Crabbe, peering regally into his crate.

/Pansy is sitting too close to him,/ thought Ron. /Is that part of his undercover work?/

Ron was reminding himself that he didn't care one bit about Draco Malfoy when three giant spiders came charging out of the forest, and towards the class.

-----

Draco saw the three gigantic arachnids come speeding out of the Forbidden Forest and jumped up. Pansy, next to him, let out a terrified squeal and ducked behind Crabbe's massive form.

"What in the world?" asked Hagrid, staring wide-eyed at the creatures. The huge professor cursed and hurried over to the charging monsters, putting a hand up and yelling for them to stop. Only the smallest spider of the three hesitated, then spun around and disappeared into the forest again.

The other two spiders simply kept running, right past Hagrid and towards the small hut surrounded by terrified seventh year Gryffindors and Slytherins. "Use your wands!" cried Hagrid, and it seemed as if Draco was the only student level-headed enough to realize what the professor was saying.

The blonde pulled his wand from its place in his pocket and pointed it at the nearest spider. He yelled out a curse and a beam of light flew from his wand to hit the side of the nasty creature.

The spider froze in its place, but the other was still coming. And it was headed straight for Ron.

"Move!" yelled Draco, but the shout wasn't nearly enough to jar the redhead from his shock.

It was a well known fact that Ron Weasley was terrified of spiders. Most especially _gigantic_ spiders. The redhead stood frozen, staring disbelievingly at the overlarge monster quickly approaching him. Draco saw Hermione looking frantically from Ron to the spider. He saw Harry slowly raising his wand, aiming it at the arachnid.

It wouldn't be quick enough. The spider was practically on top of the Gryffindor. The creature would crush him before Potter's spell would hit.

Almost without thought, Draco sprinted the short distance and shoved Ron _hard._ They landed in a tangled heap of limbs, the platinum blonde slightly on top of the smaller redhead, winded.

Harry screamed his own spell. The spider stopped in mid-step.

There was a pause. The class looked on, shocked and speechless, while Draco looked down into Ron's wide eyes.

The blonde realized his left hand was on the redhead's waist, and squeezed. Just a slight pressure. Just reassuring himself that Ron was okay.

He felt an answering squeeze on his forearm.

He was noticing the feel of the redhead's minty breath wafting up to brush against his lips when Pansy, nearby, let out a little gasp.

That's when both teens snapped back into reality. The blonde panicked.

/What'll I do?/ thought Draco. /How am I going to explain saving my worst enemy?/

"Malfoy you prat," said Ron, quite suddenly. He made a show of pushing disgustedly at the blonde's shoulders. "Get off."

Harry, catching on, came over glaring. "What are you playing at, Malfoy? Knocking Ron over like that. You're such an ass."

"But Malfoy just _saved_ Ron," said Seamus Finnigan, sounding doubtful of his own words.

"_Saved_ me?" demanded Ron, finally managing to dislodge a rather stunned Draco. He took Harry's offered hand and stood. "He knocked me over for no good reason."

Draco, also standing, brushed himself off. "That's right," he put in, having finally caught on to the trick. He leaned in closer to Ron, but still spoke clearly enough so that everyone listening in could hear. "What are you going to do about it, Weasley?"

Frowning, Pansy stepped up next to Draco. "So you knocked him over just for kicks?" she asked. Then she smiled. "That's right. What's he going to do about it? Get you in trouble for _rescuing_ him." She snickered darkly.

Crabbe, Goyle and the rest of the seventh year Slytherins, still looking confused, snickered also.

Hagrid, panting, stopped by Harry and eyed the class, demanding to know if anyone was hurt.

"No, we're okay," said Harry, staring at the closest, frozen spider. "But _what_ was that?"

"Maybe some kind of freak accident," put in Dean Thomas. "I mean, it only makes sense that something dangerous would come out of the Forbidden Forest once in a while, right?"

There were murmurs of agreement from the startled class.

"Right," said Harry, unsure. He felt a tug on his robes and turned to see Ron looking up at him, frowning. "What?"

"I think," whispered Ron, "I have an idea of what that might've been."

Harry cringed. "One of those Unfortunate Events that will eventually lead to a villain, a mystery to solve, and pain for the famous trio?"

"Right," said Ron. Harry groaned.

The redhead, still shaken, glanced over at Draco.

The blonde was staring back at him, his light eyes gleaming. Ron was surprised when he saw Draco's lips mouth the words "You Okay?" at him.

Ron half-smiled, nodded, and looked away.

-----

The news of three gigantic spiders attacking Hagrid's class spread quickly throughout the school. Ron was heading to Gryffindor House after his last class of the day when Harvey Williams saw him and promptly ran over.

"Hey Ron," he greeted, beaming.

"Hey," replied the redhead. He'd never felt completely comfortable with Harvey after fifth year. He and Draco had, after all, thought the boy to be an evil servant of Lord Voldermort. The sixth year strolled beside him.

"You alright? I heard about those forty huge spiders that charged your Creatures class. Must've been terrible, huh?"

Ron's eyes bugged. "Forty? There were only three."

"Oh," said Harvey, frowning a little. "I thought that might've been a bit of an exaggeration."

"Yeah," answered Ron, bemused.

"Still horrible though, right?" The Ravenclaw looked a little too excited to hear gory details for the youngest Weasley brother's liking. "Terrifying even."

"Horrible," agreed the redhead, not elaborating at first. And then, "I kind of froze up."

"That's right!" Harvey nodded so enthusiastically Ron thought he might soon be explaining to Ginny how her boyfriend's head had fallen off. "Heard something about that. And then Malfoy pushed you over, but you weren't really in the spider's way, so he just pushed you over for the heck of..." He trailed off, turning to the scarlet-haired teen. "Is that _really_ what happened, Ron? I mean, after fifth year, I didn't think Malfoy would do something like that." He coughed, seeming suddenly uncomfortable.

Ron clenched his teeth. He should've known. Harvey was the only other soul who'd known about he and Draco being "that way" together before they'd told Harry. The Ravenclaw had walked in on them kissing during their fifth year. And though both he and the blonde had thought Harvey was evil _then_, Ron realized Harvey had never said a word to anybody else about them.

Not even to Ginny.

The Gryffindor suddenly had a greater respect for the boy. "No. You're right. I _was_ in trouble."

They were walking up a flight of stairs now, side by side. It was quiet for a moment.

"I never told anyone," Harvey said finally. His eyes darted sideways to look at Ron, but he stayed facing forward.

The redhead shrugged. "I know. Thank you."

The sixth year seemed to swell with pride at the "thank you". And then, "I _won't_ tell anyone. Ever."

They reached the landing where Harvey would have to turn left to get to his House, and Ron right to get to his. They stopped for a moment, trying to formulate something to say to each other, when Ginny suddenly came hurriedly up the stairs.

She smiled when she spotted them, rushing into Harvey's arms and giving him a quick peck. "Guess what?"

"What?" asked Ron and Harvey at the same time.

"I just heard there's going to be a Halloween dance. That band The Wicked is going to play."

"A dance?" asked Ron, curious. "We've never had a dance for Halloween before. Just feasts."

Ginny nodded, patting him on the shoulder. "That's why it's going to be so great!" She frowned. "You okay? I heard about the-"

"I'm fine," he answered automatically.

His little sister smiled even wider. "The dance will make you feel even _better_. You can get a date with some cute blonde or something."

She had grabbed at Harvey's arm and was pulling the boy (who, Ron realized for the millionth time in three years, looked like a slightly more scruffy-haired version of Harry) towards the stairs. "We'll talk to you later, then." She said.

Harvey gave him a brief wave before allowing his girlfriend to drag him along.

Alone, Ron blinked. /A dance? But why?/ Was it to raise morale after the terrible attack on the train station, or the more recent spider incident? Either way, a dance when danger seemed to be breathing down the descent Wizarding World's back didn't seem like a good idea to the redhead.

It didn't seem like a good idea at all.

/Cute _blonde_?/ Ron briefly thought of Draco, with his feathery hair and light eyes and strong lips, before quickly pushing the internal images away.

He spun around and headed for his dorm.


	8. Part Eight

BROKEN

Author: Harikari (Formerly Known As Nox2) I've changed my name!!

Notes: Here's number eight. Hope you enjoy. Thanks for all the reviews so far! I'm sorry for the many spelling mistakes, grammatical errors and other such things that are sure to be in all of my stories. Ugh. Oh, and I meant to get to the dance this chap, but it just didn't work out that way. This story seems to be moving along too slowly...Tell me what you think!

_Italics_ stand for emphasis and --- stands for scene breaks

Part Eight:

As seventh year wore on, Draco felt worse and worse. He'd felt useless and angry at himself before, for not telling the wizarding world about Macnair despite Dumbledore's stupid wishes, and for not knowing about the Death Eater attack on the train station. Now he felt simply miserable.

He was of very little use - if any at all - to the Order while at school. His reports to Snape and to the Headmaster, which had been frequent during the first weeks of school, were now nonexistent. He had nothing to tell them, unless the side of the light wanted to know about Zabini's snoring habits, or about the crush Millicent Bulstrode had on that sixth year Hufflepuff.

And they didn't. Draco had asked.

And as if worrying over his Order duties wasn't trouble enough, the blonde still constantly thought of Ron. He thought about his hands, his mouth, his eyes. When Draco passed his ex in the corridors he gave him small smiles that he hoped no one else noticed, and received small smirks in return.

But that was all. And Draco didn't want that to be all. He wanted more. He wanted what they'd had _before_. He wanted the heat between them, his hand in Ron's hair, his tongue in Ron's mouth.

It was the week before Halloween when Draco finally broke. He just couldn't take being away from Ron anymore. And why should he have to? He was a Malfoy, and Malfoy's _always _got what they wanted.

Always.

-----

"So Harry froze one himself, huh? That's brilliant. Not that I'm surprised or anything. I mean, he is _Harry_."

Ron was becoming very annoyed with Harvey Williams. The sixth year was continually jabbering on about the spider incident, despite the fact that it was now considered old news even by gossip queens like Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil.

The redhead didn't want to think about giant spiders. He had enough to worry about. Like the train station attack Harry had become so obsessed with, and like Harry himself.

The green-eyed teen acted as if the deaths of the muggles and wizards had been brought about by his own hand. He trailed after Cho and her affections less and less, and was instead busying himself with interrogating teachers and students for helpful information, or picking fights with Slytherins because he thought they'd looked at someone wrong.

Harry was angry, and he was in full-blown investigation mode. But it wasn't okay this time, because this time Hermione and Ron weren't there to help him.

"Right," the redhead told Ginny's boyfriend morosely. "But you already _knew _that Harvey. You know the story by heart, why do you keep _asking _me about it?"

The pair passed by a hall bulletin board. There was a blinking notice on it announcing the Halloween dance the next Friday. Ron groaned, but Harvey seemed to perk up considerably.

"What are you going as?" asked the sixth year.

"Nothing."

Harvey frowned. "Nothing? You aren't wearing a costume? Where's your Halloween spirit, Ron?" The Ravenclaw waved to someone in the distance. Ron was releived to see it was his sister, come to take her boyfriend away. Probably away to snog.

Thinking of snogging brought Malfoy to mind, and Ron held back another groan. "I'm a bloody _wizard_, Harvey. I think that's Halloween-y enough."

Ginny had stopped to talk to some other sixth year Gryffindor girls. She shot a glance at he and Harvey and waved them over distractedly.

"You know who I heard suggested the dance?" The two had stopped by the board, Harvey looking wary of going into a crowd of girls and Ron waiting for Harvey to leave.

"Who?" he asked, not really caring.

"Snape. He told Dumbledore he thought it would be a good idea to give a dance to the students, since we can't go to Hogsmeade this year because of the train station getting destroyed. You know, too dangerous." Harvey's eyes got suddenly darker at this.

"Really," commented Ron. Snape. That was utter bullshit if he'd ever heard it. Where did Williams get this stuff?

Ginny's friends had left her now, and she was looking over at them, gesturing wildly. Harvey started over to her, but Ron just gave a polite little wave. He couldn't go to dinner tonight. He had some other things to tend to.

"Harvey, who are _you _going to the dance as?"

Harvey smiled widely. "Sir Cadogan," he said.

It took all of Ron's willpower to spin around and turn the corner before he burst out laughing.

-----

Ginny frowned when her older brother disappeared around a corner, only half-interested in the kiss Harvey gave her on the cheek. "He's not coming to dinner?" she asked, curious.

Harvey shrugged.

The scarlet-haired sixth year had been a little worried about Ron all year. The teen didn't seem _quite_ as depressed as before, though. He was at least talking to Harry and Hermione again, if only ocassionally.

At first, the girl had thought her brother was upset only about the horrid train station business, but then she'd thought back and realized his mysterious funk had been going on even _before_ that.

Ginny was sure the funk wasn't about fifth year. Ron had seemed genuinly happy after the winter break fiasco. He'd enjoyed his classes, walked with a spring in his step, joked more frequently than usual... Heck, he hadn't even kept up his old rivalry with Malfoy after that break. The two had become almost _friendly_ to each other for a while, and though she hadn't noticed them being quite that friendly _anymore_, they certainly hadn't had any vicious fights or-

Ginny blinked. She thought back to her fourth year, right after she'd broken up with Harvey. Right after all that Macnair mess. She had watched as Ron and Malfoy had passed each other in the Dining Hall; had seen Draco flash Ron a smile.

Ginny blinked again.

/No./

/No _WAY_./

Grabbing Harvey's hand, Ginny pulled her boyfriend towards the Great Hall. "We have to discuss that costume of yours, Harv. I really don't like it."

The Ravenclaw frowned. "You know, there's a really brave and noble story behind that Sir Cadogan-"

"He's a stupid little knight portrait," said Ginny.

-----

Hermione sat near the back of the library. She had her back to a large, picture window. Sunbeams danced around the smooth, wooden tables and wobbly, overstacked bookshelves. Her level seven Transfiguration text lay open to page ninety-two, and she held a quill poised over a fresh length of parchment.

But she wasn't moving.

Her eyes seemed to be glazing over slightly; her mouth somewhat agape. She didn't look as if she was aware of anything around her.

"Hey Herm," said Ron, softly. The girl jumped, snapping out of her stupor. "Studying too much?" The redhead took a seat next to his friend, swinging his own overloaded bookbag up onto the table so that it rested next to the one already there.

He'd had a feeling he would find Hermione here. It seemed she was always in the library, or by the lake, or in her dorm, studying away. And who could blame her, when she was taking what seemed like five hundred classes?

Hermione looked at him and smiled, shaking her head as if to clear it. "Yeah. I'm turning into a study zombie." She put down her quill and slammed her Transfiguration book shut before opening her bag to dig around for something else. "Did you need some help with your homework?"

"No," answered Ron, even though he probably did. He hadn't even _thought_ about his weekend homework yet. He believed homework given on Friday's was best left for late Sunday night, when it could be done hurridely and while half-asleep.

"I need to talk to you about Harry," he said, just as Hermione was pulling out a rather thick History of Magic textbook from her bag. "I...I guess I'm kind of worried about him."

The girl looked suddenly alarmed. "Worried? What's wrong?"

Ron shook his head, trying to reassure her. "I just mean he's been jumping at every little thing. He wants to do something about the station attack. He wants to _prevent _another train station attack, but he's not getting anywhere."

Eyes sad, Hermione nodded. "Well, he can't really do anything, can he? I mean, he's stuck here at school, and Voldemort isn't bothering with him right now." A pause. "I'll bet he feels kind of useless."

Ron ran his palms across the slick surface of the wooden table and nodded. "Voldemort didn't mess with him sixth year, after Sirius...I think he was starting to feel comfortable. He started to go out with Cho, work on being an Auror, and now the attack happened and-"

"He feels guilty about letting his guard down," finished Hermione, frowning. She hadn't opened her book yet, her thoughts apparently too focused on her troubled friend.

"Right." Ron leaned forward, stressed and a little guilty himself. "And we're not even there for him, like we were all those other years. We three aren't as close as we used to be, Herm. I'm worried Harry might get himself hurt." He leaned back into the hard chair. He didn't like dealing with this; talking about something so heavy. It wasn't like him. He was used to being the joker, the sidekick...But it had to be done.

Hermione looked suddenly on the verge of tears. She looked down at her book. "So, we should help him, right? Like old times?" She looked up, and now her face was set with determination. "Why _can't_ it be like old times?" she asked, but didn't wait for an answer. "All we have to do is be there for him more, Ron. Help him out. Just like we always have."

Ron knew he'd come to the girl for a reason. She was brilliant. She was right. Why had he been so worried? The trio hadn't been out-and-out ignoring each other like they had at the start of the year. They were _already _getting closer again. So it should be no problem to weasel their way back into Harry's everyday life. No problem at all.

"That's right," Hermione was saying. She slammed a fist down on her book and a few Hufflepuffs turned to shush her. "We'll be there for Harry, now. It isn't as if we have anything else pressing to worry about."

And then Ron was thinking about Draco, and about the spider attack, and about the conversation between Malfoy and Harry that someone had overheard just _before _that attack.

"What?" asked Hermione. Ron figured he had a peculiar look on his face. "What is it?"

"Nothing," Ron grinned. "You're right."

-----

Draco went in for the metaphorical kill on the night before the Halloween dance. After classes, when dinner was done and everyone was chattering excitedly in their common rooms about what costume they were planning to wear and how wicked the band The Wicked was going to be, the blonde gave his fellow Slytherins some nonsense excuse ("Really, Pansy. I don't need your help. I feel ill enough to go to the hostpital wing, but not ill enough that I need help to get there.") and managed to slip away.

He really didn't have any concrete plan, and he wasn't completely sure he'd find Ron wandering the castle's halls, but it didn't really matter. Because he wanted to find Ron, and do things to Ron, and Ron was his.

And that was enough motivation to get him going, despite the possible roadblocks.

He headed for the library first, thinking that maybe Granger had managed to force the redhead into studying something. But when he got there the light was dim, and Madam Pince was nowhere in sight. He peeked in a couple of times, just to be sure, but left quickly when the stone gargoyle statues gaurding the entrance started giving him strange looks.

Next, he went to the Owlery. Then to the long corridor that led to the Gryffindor's common room. He was losing hope, thinking that maybe he didn't really know Ron anymore. Sure, the Gryffindor had snuck around a lot before, when they'd been going out. But perhaps he'd given it up.

Finally, Draco decided to call it quits for the night, mulling over the chances that he'd see his little red (_Ron_, he reminded himself) at the dance the next day. He realized he was hungry and changed his course a little, heading for the kitchens.

Ron was standing next to the portrait that was the secret entrance to the kitchens, just about to tickle the pear, when Draco turned the corner.

The redhead squeaked and looked guilty. "I was just-" He stopped, probably realizing who it was he was staring at. "Oh. You."

The blonde got angry at that. He clenched his teeth and walked determinedly over to the Gryffindor. "Yes, _me_." A deep breath. "I need to talk to you, Ron."

"_Again_? I know what's going on, Draco. I think you've talked to me enough. I mean, I'm thankful for you saving me from that spider, but-"

The Slytherin stepped closer; grabbed his elbow. "What's the problem, then? You know why I broke it off between us. It wasn't because I didn't like you anymore. Why can't it be like before? Like in sixth year? Ron-"

The teen's eyes were suddenly round, the blue orbs shockingly beautiful. He pulled his elbow from Draco's grip and ran a hand through his bright, red hair nervously. "Before?" he asked, and he sounded so hopeful and looked so good that the Slytherin had to swallow back his emotions and consciously restrain himself from grabbing the boy and devouring him on the spot.

-----

"Before?" he asked. He looked up at Draco, hopeful.

The blonde licked his lips; looked strained. It was as if he was trying to hold something back. Trying to contain himself. Ron knew that look.

They _shouldn't _get back together, really. And not only because Ron was afraid he'd get hurt again, but because of the danger involved. With Draco a spy for the Order...Well, it just wasn't a good situation. It would be safer just to give up and go their seperate ways. Safer to forget about each other.

He looked at Draco again. His slim, yet muscled form. Feathery hair. Brilliant, light eyes. Eyes that looked sad now; unsure.

/When _hasn't_ our relationship been a risk?/ thought Ron, before grabbing the taller teen's shoulders and forcing him down for a kiss.

It felt good, familiar, and new all at the same time.

They walked backwards, Draco's tongue thrusting into Ron's mouth, until the redhead's back was up against the stone wall. The blonde's hands traveled down until they were gripping Ron's hips, his strong fingers digging in possessively.

Ron gasped a breathy protest when Draco stopped the kiss. The blonde nipped at his bottom lip playfully before pulling away. The teen moved down until Ron felt hot breath on that juncture between his neck and shoulder.

God, he remembered how much the Slytherin had liked that spot before. It was as if he wanted to brand Ron; remind him who he belonged to.

Ron didn't mind it at all.

The redhead brought his own hands up when he felt Draco's tongue against his skin. He had one hand full of Draco's shirt and another gripping the back of his neck when he felt teeth, and suction. He held back a moan, only faintly realizing he'd probably have a hickey from hell the next day.

And then Draco's leg nudged his legs, and the blonde's knee was between his thighs. And still, Draco was sucking at that spot, and-

"I suppose this is your idea of staying away from Potter and his friends, Mr. Malfoy?"

They pulled apart so quickly it left Ron's head spinning. He straightened; tried to get a hold of himself and stop the hot flush covering his cheeks. Finally, he focused. Gasped. Shot a horrified look at Malfoy.

"Hello, Professor Snape," said the blonde.

Snape just scowled.


	9. Part Nine

BROKEN

Author: Harikari (Formerly Known As Nox2)

Notes: Here's number nine. --Gets hit in the head with a tomato-- Ow. Okay, I deserved that. No updates for months. I'm x-tremely sorry! All my excuses can be read on my bio page. Thanks to everyone who has R & R'd! I live for feedback. Only about three chapters to go after this one (this is the chapter that wouldn't end). Now on with the fic...

_Italics_ stand for emphasis and --- stands for scene breaks

Part Nine:

Ron noticed that Snape had his wand out. The Professor had a murderous look on his face, but wasn't moving or saying anything, so the redhead began to fidget. He couldn't help it. He started to pull at the frayed edges of his shirt and shoot nervous, sideways glances at Draco. He stopped a second later when Snape shot him an even _more _murderous look.

"Malfoy," said the man, and it seemed as if he was struggling to keep his temper in check.

When the blonde spoke, his voice was steady. "He knows."

"What!" The greasy-haired instructor gripped his wand more tightly. It seemed to Ron, for a moment, like the man was going to use his wand. Like he already had the perfect spell to use on the both of them on the tip of his tongue.

But that was ridiculous. Snape wouldn't do that. He was a jerk, not a Death Eater. Well, not a _real _Death Eater.

Ron backed up a little.

"Ron knows about me," repeated Draco. The Slytherin was calm. He had that haughty, I-don't-give-a-shit, oh-so-Malfoy look on his face. As if getting caught snogging with another boy, a _Gryffindor _boy, was no big deal. As if the fact that Snape had just discovered he'd betrayed the Order by telling Ron about his role in the organization didn't bother him at all.

Maybe it didn't, but the redhead doubted it.

"Are you _daft_? Of all the-" The professor stopped, his wand coming up to point threateningly at the two teens. "I should've known one of Potter's little cronies would be sniffing around. What have you got on Malfoy, Mr. Weasley?"

"I think you've just witnessed for yourself what we've _got _on each other, Professor." Draco was glaring, and was standing so that he was between Snape and Ron.

"You utter fool! I had big plans for you, Draco. I swear, I'll...I'll..." His wand hand was shaking, his dark eyes gleaming with anger. Sparks of energy began to dance along the thin piece of wood, he opened his mouth-

"What seems to be the problem here, Severus?"

The sparks of powerful magic disappeared, the wand went down, and the two teens let out little sighs of relief. "Professor McGonagall!" shouted Ron, who had been tense with fear. He wondered what was wrong with Snape. Had the man really been _that _furious?

The redhead noticed his hands were shaking, and balled them into fists.

Snape looked stunned for a moment. "They were out of their beds, Minerva. And curfew...," the greasy-haired instructor trailed off lamely.

McGonagall shot them all curious looks. "Right. And trying to sneak into the kitchens, it seems. Fifty points from both of your Houses. Get to bed." When the teens hesitated, she made shooing gestures with her hands. "Bed. Now."

Ron didn't voice his opinion that fifty points was pretty steep for a little night outing, because he thought McGonagall's method of discipline seemed loads better than whatever Snape had planned to do with them.

He turned tail and walked to the stairs, Draco drifting away from him to head for the dungeons.

/Well/ thought Ron, watching as the platinum head of hair disappeared into the darkness. /That was...odd./

Scary_ odd._

_-----_

"Have you seen them?" Harvey slid into the vacant seat next to Ginny and ignored the slightly annoyed looks he got from some surrounding Gryffindors. The scarlet haired girl was picking at her food, and it didn't seem as if she'd heard his question.

"Gin, have you seen them?"

Ginny looked up, startled. "Oh, hullo Harvey. Have I seen who?"

Grabbing some bread from his girlfriend's tray, Harvey frowned. "The Wicked. They're here, but the Headmaster is trying to keep them hidden until tonight. Some Hufflepuffs said they saw the lead singer."

"Oh. No." Ginny, looking troubled, pushed her lunch away. Harvey snatched the tray and began to dig in before it could disappear. "Harvey, I've gotta' ask you something, and you have to tell me the truth."

Harvey paused, a forkful of food halfway to his mouth. He'd thought the girl had been acting a little off lately. What was wrong with her? What was she going to ask? "Er...Huh?"

Her troubled look disappeared, only to quickly be replaced by a determined scowl. "What do you know about Malfoy and my brother?"

Harvey's fork dropped to the tray with a _thunk_. If he'd had anything in his mouth, he might've choked. As it was, he grew wide-eyed; his jaw hung open in surprise. "Huh?"

Ginny was looking at him, her eyes seemingly flaming. "In our fourth year you blackmailed Ron into having a duel with you the night Macnair kidnapped him. What did you blackmail him about?"

Harvey could feel himself begin to sweat. He'd felt guilty about threatening Ron into a duel two years ago, and he'd never told anyone that he'd walked in on Draco and Ron during a heated conversation about their relationship. A _kissing_ relationship. After Macnair he'd never _thought _about telling anyone; it wasn't his place.

And then there was the fact that he'd just recently reassured Ron, who'd become a good friend, that he would never tell anyone about his relationship with the Slytherin.

Harvey decided to play dumb. "What?" At Ginny's scary look, he went on nervously. "I...Uh, I don't remember."

"You don't remember?" The youngest Weasley looked dangerous. "Tell me, Harvey," she said warningly.

Harvey feigned anger. "Geez Gin, I told you I don't remember. Why are you asking, anyway?"

At this, the girl seemed to sober. "No reason. It's just...I'm a little worried about Ron, and I thought...Well, it isn't important." It was her turn to look nervous. She shifted in her seat and grabbed for her knapsack. "Guess we better head for class, huh?"

"Oh, yeah," said Harvey, getting up from the Gryffindor dining table and feeling more than a little guilty. He grabbed his own bag, and as they walked away he started up a conversation about that night's dance in order to take his mind off of Ron and Draco.

He tried not to wonder why Ginny seemed worried about her brother. He thought about the spider attack earlier that year, about Draco pushing Ron out of the way, and tried not to worry himself.

The Wicked started with a bang - literally.

The band popped out of thin air, instruments in hand and dressed up in outrageous outfits that made the Professors frown and the students cheer. Glittery confetti, beams of neon light, and a loud explosion all accompanied the band during their entrance. The lead singer yelled a hello and launched immediately into The Wicked's most popular song.

The Great Hall had been completely transformed for the dance. Instead of the long House dining tables there were smaller, round tables. The dance was only just starting, so only a few students sat around the tables. Most were jumping up and down on the dance floor in front of the band's stage, or poking around the well-stocked refreshment tables.

Ron stood near the doors, frowning and pulling at the collar of his Quidditch outfit. He hadn't wanted to dress up, really. But he figured being uncomfortable for a few hours was probably better than sticking out like a sore thumb (pretty much everybody had dressed up as _something_), or being called a wet blanket. So he'd thrown on his worn Quidditch outfit, planning to tell anyone who asked that he was a star player.

Yeah. He was clever.

"Harry!" he shouted, spotting his friend. Harry's hair had been charmed orange, his robes a deep black. He looked distracted and none too happy.

Ron turned and headed towards him, into the quiet of the Entrance Hall. The shouting and singing of the Dining Hall sounded suddenly muffled and faint. The redhead wrung his hands nervously as he waited for Harry to descend the stairs.

"Hullo, Ron." Harry stopped by his friend and peered into the doors that lead to the dance. "Hasn't it started yet?"

Ron nodded. "Yeah, I just wanted to talk to you."

At that, Harry looked at him, his green eyes wide and alarmed behind his glasses. "What? Has something else happened?" He ran a hand through his hair and began to pace. "God, I'm sorry Ron. I've been so busy with the train station-"

"No," Ron cut him off. "Nothing's happened. I just want to talk."

"Oh." Harry stopped in front of him. "Okay. What is it, then?"

Ron cleared his throat, buying time. He then bit at his lip, trying to think of what words to use and how to say it...

/Bloody hell/ thought Ron. He didn't know a thing when it came to having heart to hearts. What was it that Hermione had said? She always put things so well...He got lost in his thoughts, wishing Hermione was there to help him out.

"Ron?" asked Harry.

Ron looked up. "Hermione!"

The girl was standing next to the statue of a rather horrid looking witch, facing the wall. Lost in his thoughts, Ron hadn't even heard the girl come down the stairs. She must've spotted him talking to Harry and decided not to interrupt.

"Hermione!" Ron said again, a little louder and quite desperate for some help. Hermione turned away from the wall, blinked, and then came over smiling.

"Hullo," she said. "I didn't want to bother-"

"I told Harry that we needed to talk to him," interrupted the redhead. And, feeling a bit more brave with the girl at his side, he continued. "Harry, we've noticed how you've been acting and, well, if you need help with anything, anything at all, just ask us. We don't want you getting hurt."

Okay, so not the most gentle or clear way to put it, but Harry must've got his meaning because the brunette smiled and his eyes softened and he nodded. "Thanks," he said, and for a moment it looked like he wanted to pull them both in for a hug. "Thanks, you guys."

"Let's dance," said Hermione, grinning. The music had become louder, the shouts coming from inside the dining hall more excited. Ron looked at his friend and realized she was wearing a costume. She had on a long, sparkling white gown. Most of her hair was up, and she was wearing makeup that seemed to make her skin glow. But the most noticeable, and best part about her costume were the two, translucent wings. They weren't attached to her; just hovering there at her back and flapping occasionaly.

She was dressed as an angel.

"Yeah," grinned Ron, looking at the charmed-on wings with a sort of awe. "Let's."

The Trio walked through the doors and into the midst of the dance.

Draco had decided not to wear anything special to the dance. He left the common room five minutes after all of the other Slytherins, so as to be fashionably late. He spent the extra time smoothing down his shirt and gazing into the large, inactive fireplace.

He had a bad feeling. Like something horrid was going to happen. But he figured it might just be the whole spider incident, the palpable tension in the air that had been there ever since Voldermort's attack on the station, or the soup he'd had for lunch. So, being the reasonable Slytherin he was, he tried to shake the feeling off.

Telling himself he was being paranoid, he hurried up out of the dungeouns and towards the dining hall. Even before he reached the Entrance Hall he could hear the music. It was loud, and pounding, and made his teeth clatter in his mouth. He was more accustomed to small dinner parties with his father's less-than-wholesome business partners. Despite the nauseauting music and the pressing crowd, the dance would be a nice change. And, of course, Ron would be there. The redhead was always a plus.

He entered the Hall and was immediately assaulted with harsh, bright lights and a thick, choking smoke. The blonde coughed and sputtered, though none of the other students seemed to think that The Wicked's special effects were a bit much.

A mass of bodies had gathered around the stage, jumping up and down and shouting with excitement. Most everyone was dressed up, and Draco wondered if he should've dawned some more festive apparel.

His eyes swept the Hall, looking for Ron. First, he spotted Pansy and the other Slytherins. They were all huddled in a corner, drinking spiced pumpkin juice and shooting occassional mean looks at the crowd gathered around the band. Next, he saw Professor Snape, glowering and standing next to a pleased looking Professor Flitwick. The little wizard seemed to be trying to engage the greasy-haired man in conversation. Draco, not feeling like dealing with what was sure to be a horrid confrontation, turned his eyes away.

He'd just spotted Ron's red hair when someone nudged him from behind. He stumbled, cursed, and spun around with a glare on his face. "Er...Sorry," said Harvey, nervously.

"Watch where you're going, Williams." Draco eyed the Ravenclaw, taking in the ridiculous costume he was wearing. He was dressed in a poor excuse for a suit of armor. It was a wonder the blonde hadn't heard the teen coming a mile away, with all that metal clanging together. Hell, it was a wonder Harvey could walk at _all_. Draco fought back a laugh that was quickly bubbling up in his throat. The other Slytherins, and the already pissed off Snape might be watching. He had to appear as cold-hearted and ruthless as possible. "What the hell are you wearing?" he asked, trying to make himself sound insulting rather than curious. It wasn't hard, as he'd had a lot of practice over the years.

Williams didn't seem to mind the rude tone. He grinned widely. "I'm Sir Cadogen," he replied. "Isn't it wicked?"

"Wicked certainly isn't the word _I _would use," put in a decidedly angry female voice. It was Ginny. She took a stance next to her boyfriend's shoulder, eyeing him coldly. She was holding a fizzing red drink in one hand, and a ghost-shaped pastry in the other. Harvey, who hadn't noticed the threatening look and tone, grabbed the pastry and took a huge bite. "Why did you wear that, Harv? When I asked you not to?"

Harvey blinked and chewed the pastry.

Draco, deciding he'd heard enough of the quarrel, turned to leave. "Malfoy. Uh, Draco. Can I ask you something?"

"What?" asked the blonde, turning back around. He was more than a little surprised at Ginny's question. What could the girl possibly have to ask him?

She shifted from foot to foot, her dress swishing. Draco couldn't tell what she was dressed as. An oversized pixie, maybe? The scarlet-haired girl pointed towards the spot where her brother and Harry stood, chatting and laughing. "Ron's over there."

The blonde straightened, worried that she'd obviously noticed he was headed that way. "So?" he growled.

"I just figured you'd be looking for him." A pause. "You were, weren't you?" She had fire in her eyes now. She was eyeing Draco, as if sizing him up. As if she knew something. As if she-

Draco blinked; took a step backwards. /No. No way./ She _couldn't _know about he and Ron. There was no way. Had they been that obvious about it? That thought sent a chill up the blonde's spine. If Ginny knew, then the other Slytherins might know. And if the Slytherins knew, then his father knew.

"Wha...," he started, before trailing off. He shot a worried look at Harvey, who seemed to be oblivious to the situation. Surely _he _hadn't told Ginny. Why would he? Williams had known about he and Ron since their fifth year, and had never said a word.

Draco straightened his posture and narrowed his eyes. Maybe she didn't know. Maybe she just suspected. He could remedy that. Probably. "What are you talking about, Weasley?"

She shot a surprised look at her brother; turned back to Draco. She opened and closed her mouth, as if unsure what to say. "I just thought...," she let the sentence die.

"See to it that your boyfriend doesn't bump into me again," he spat, easily slipping back into his old personality. The blonde gave Ginny a dark look before turning away, leaving the sixth year Gryffindor blinking and sputtering.

He walked further away from where Ron stood, just in order to disprove the girl's assumption. "Did you hear that?" he heard her ask. "Did you hear what he just said?"

"Yeah," Harvey answered. "Do you think he liked my costume?"

"Aren't you going to find Cho?"

Ron's question came as if from far away. Harry was busy looking at Hermione. The girl's wings were fluttering, and she was nodding her head to the music, although she didn't look as if she had any sense of beat. She was pushing her way through the crowd, looking distracted.

After chatting with her friends for a while, the girl had told them she was supposed to have met someone tonight, and had quickly left. "What is she doing?" asked Harry, ignoring the redhead's question. "Trying to dance?" He laughed, turning to look at his friend.

Ron was frowning. He shot a quick, unconcerned look Hermione's way before repeating himself. "Aren't you going to find Cho, Harry?"

"Why?" demanded Harry, a little hurt. "Do you have somewhere else to be, too?"

"No," replied Ron. And Harry took that moment to remember that his best friend couldn't be with the person _he _wanted to be with because that person was a double agent for the Order. "I was just wondering."

Feeling guilty, the brunette answered. "I don't think she wants me to find her, Ron. I've been ignoring her lately. And things were a little rough before that, anyway."

"Oh." Ron turned his gaze back to the crowd. Harry did too, and saw Hermione surrounded by numerous sixth and seventh year boys from numerous Houses. She was lost in a crowd of them, looking flustered and annoyed. The boys seemed oblivious to her plight, trying to get her to dance or talk. Ron snorted. "She'll never get to her date."

"Yeah," agreed Harry. "There's Draco."

Ron followed the direction of Harry's gaze. He caught sight of a familiar head of blonde hair and quickly turned away. "Yeah." He felt the anger he'd been feeling towards Draco since sixth year boiling beneath the surface. It was calmer now; less evident. The memory of last night, of Draco's lips on his, was still fresh. It made him feel hopeful and a little bitter at the same time. So they'd finally, in a sense, made up. But what did that matter when Draco was a spy for the Order? What did that matter as long as the war between light and dark was still raging, and Draco was in danger of being found out?

Harry must've sensed his unease, because he quickly changed the subject. "Where did you go last night?"

"Huh?"

Harry headed for the punch, motioning for Ron to follow. "I saw you weren't in bed."

This change of subject didn't make the redhead feel any better. He felt something akin to icy fingers making their way up his back, and fought the urge to shiver. "I went down to the kitchens."

Harry had helped himself to a cupful of some reddish, fizzing drink. "Oh."

Ron surprised himself by continuing. "I ran into Draco and-"

Harry barely avoided spitting out a mouthful of punch. "I'd rather not know," he admitted. Ron smacked him in the arm. "Ow."

"I wasn't going to tell you anything like _that_." Ron lowered his voice and leaned closer to his friend. "Snape caught us." Harry's eyes grew wide; his attention was suddenly fully on Ron. "Draco told Snape that I knew about him being a spy, and Snape went _mad_. I expected him to be upset, but he looked about ready to do a killing curse on both of us. He had his wand out and everything."

Harry put his punch on the table. "What happened?" A pause. "Did you two cast a funny charm on him or something? Turn him into a toad?" A funny little half-smile appeared on the brunettes face at this thought, but Ron shook his head.

"McGonagall saved us. Took fifty points away, though." The redhead frowned at this. "I swear Harry, Snape might've killed us if she hadn't come along." He reached for a cup to put his own punch in, but Harry dug rough fingers into his elbow and pulled. "Hey!"

Harry shushed him and came to a stop once they were in a secluded corner of the dining hall. "You said Snape was acting crazy? Like he was about to kill you?"

"That's what I said." Ron rubbed at the sore spots on his arm.

Harry frowned. "Malfoy works under Snape right? He reports to Snape for the Order?" The brunette was tense now; his green eyes kept darting around the room.

"Yeah. So?" Ron wasn't really following what his friend was saying. "Should we really be talking about this here, Harry?"

But Harry ignored him. "Snape works as a Death Eater too, right? And he's supposed to report what he knows as a Death Eater to Dumbledore and the Order?"

Ron chewed at his bottom lip, wondering if maybe Harry had already managed to work himself loony. If only they hadn't been so distant at the beginning of the year...Harry shook him so hard his teeth rattled.

"Ron, don't you see? Death Eaters attacked the train station." His voice had gotten a little louder; the redhead hoped nobody had noticed them.

"Yeah, they did. And that was horrible, Harry. But you can't work yourself to death trying to get revenge-"

"NO!" Startled party goers looked over at them. Harry managed a nervous smile before turning back to Ron and lowering his voice considerably. "If Snape is an undercover Death Eater, and Death Eaters attacked the train station, then how come he didn't tell Dumbledore before it happened? How come he didn't stop it?"

Ron's breath got caught in his throat. He stared wide-eyed at his friend. "You're not saying...?"

Harry gripped his shoulder. "Snape's not a double agent working for the _Order_, Ron. He's still working for Voldemort."

Draco lounged against the wall, nursing a cup of punch and resisting the temptation to bob his head to the beat of the music. The Wicked was playing something soft now, and some couples had made their way out onto the dance floor.

The blonde carefully didn't look at the couples. His eyes darted around as he tried to find something less upsetting to watch; his gaze fell on Snape. The Professor's glare seemed to cut right through him, and Draco turned away.

In a secluded corner of the Hall he could make out Harry and Ron talking. Their heads were close together, and they appeared to be whispering.

"NO!" Harry's scream could be heard even over the sound of the band playing. Draco pushed away from the wall and frowned. What was the bespectacled boy shouting about? What had gotten him so upset?

After only another minute of standing around doing nothing the blonde couldn't take it anymore. He had to know what Harry had shouted at Ron about. Hell, he just had to see Ron. He made his way towards the Hall's exit. He'd made it to the doors and was trying to catch Ron's eye when someone bumped into his shoulder from behind.

He turned. Pansy blinked at him. "Oh," she finally said. "Sorry Draco." Some of her spiced pumpkin juice had spilled and was dripping its way down her hand. "We were looking for you. Goyle and Crabbe are over there in the corner. We're making fun of all the dullards here. Come on." She grabbed his arm.

"Wait. Pansy, do something for me?" As his role with the Slytherins required, it was more an order than a suggestion.

"What?" she asked, intrigued. She'd followed his gaze to where Ron and Harry were standing in the corner.

"Tell the Weasel that I noticed he's not even good enough for his mudblood girlfriend anymore." He eyed Hermione, who was surrounded by boys and who was looking increasingly annoyed. Pansy grinned at him. "Just tell him that. I'll meet you guys in the corner in a minute."

He watched as the Slytherin girl pushed her way through the crowd towards the two Gryffindors. She stopped in front of them and gestured in Draco's direction, then took off snickering. Pale faced, both Harry and Ron looked up to meet his eyes.

Good, he'd gotten their attention. Draco made a small _come here_ gesture with his head. /Follow me, he thought encouragingly, before disappearing through the doors.

"That was a little over the top," muttered Ron. "He didn't have to tell her to say _that_."

Harry ignored the hurt look on the redhead's face and pushed at his shoulder. "Go. Tell him what I told you. But be careful. I'll watch Snape to make sure he doesn't follow you."

Ron pursed his lips and gave his friend a concerned, searching look. Then he nodded. "Okay. But I'll be right back."

"Sure you will," said Harry. Ron turned away and didn't see him roll his eyes.

The brunette watched until his friend had disappeared behind the Hall doors, then let out a deep sigh. He looked around and spotted Snape, who was standing next to Flitwick. He'd watch the greasy Professor like a hawk. No way was he going to let him go after Ron and Malfoy. If Snape had aided in the train station attack, then it was more than likely he had been the one to overhear the hallway conversation, and the one to trigger the spider attack against the Magical Creatures class.

Bloody hell, he _had _tried to kill Ron and Malfoy last night. There was almost no doubt that Snape was still working for Voldemort; that he'd aided in the station attack and was causing all the trouble around Hogwarts.

Harry straightened his posture and narrowed his eyes. No. No way would he take his eyes off that scum for even a moment. Not for anything in the world.

"Hey, Harry."

Harry turned.

"I was wondering if we could talk?"

"Uh...Yeah. Sure, Cho."

The Entrance Hall was empty except for Draco, who was tapping his foot on the floor impatiently. Ron saw that the blonde had a half-full cup of fizzy punch in his hand and grabbed it. He swallowed it all down before letting the empty cup drop to the floor. He was too on edge to worry about things like common courtesy at the moment.

"What's up?" he asked. Draco eyed him before bringing a hand up to grip Ron's jaw. He leaned down and touched his mouth to the redhead's. His tongue came out and licked over Ron's lips; he let out a quiet _mmmm_ before pulling away, and the Gryffindor realized he'd been licking the punch away.

"You tell me," said the blonde. "What was Potter yelling about?"

Ron tensed. "Snape," he said. "We think Snape is the one who...did everything." He looked around, not liking the idea of standing just outside the dining hall and discussing what a super-evil Death Eater had done.

Draco nodded thoughtfully. "Tell me everything," he said.

The steady _bump_, _bump _of The Wicked's music could be heard through the doors. "Let's walk," replied Ron.

By the time Ron had finished ranting about all of his and Harry's suspicions about Snape, the two seventh years had walked the grounds and ended up outside of Hagrid's hut. The hut was completely dark and deserted, as Hagrid was helping to chaperone the party. "I don't know," finished the redhead. "Harry and I have been wrong about Snape before. I don't get how he couldn't have gotten caught yet. And why isn't Dumbledore suspicious about the station attack?"

Draco leaned back against the single, gigantic pumpkin sitting in the groundskeeper's yard. "Some of it makes sense," conceded the Slytherin. "But you and I have been wrong before, too." He grinned so that his teeth were showing, and the redhead grinned back.

"I guess we shouldn't be out here alone, if something's going on." Ron stared around; listened closely to the sounds of the nearby forest. He half-expected to see a mysterious cloaked figure standing in the distance, staring at them. But, no. That was in the past. He buried his face into Draco's shoulder, then tilted his head up so that his warm breath brushed across the blonde's neck. After a moment he tried to pull away, but Draco's strong arm snaked around his back and held him in place.

"What if nothing is going on? What if the person Potter and I saw in the hallway was just someone walking to their House? What if those spiders were a freak accident? This isn't like fifth year. We could all just be paranoid about the train station attack." But doubt filled Draco's eyes, even as he spoke. "Nothing has happened to tell us for sure that someone is after us."

And just then, the gigantic pumpkin exploded and a raging circle of fire rose up around the two seventh years, trapping them.


	10. Part Ten

BROKEN

Author: Harikari (Formerly Known as Nox2)

Notes: This didn't turn out as well as I would've liked it to but...Finally! The end is near, and important stuff happens this chapter. Surprised? Disappointed? Confused? Knew it all along? Let me know! Feedback is my life. Virtual chocolate chip cookies to everyone who reviewed last time! And if you don't like cookies I'll bake you something else...

Part Ten:

An intense, unpleasant feeling was creeping slowly up Ginny's spine and tickling at the back of her neck. She grabbed ahold of Harvey's elbow and held on, grateful that the Ravenclaw had agreed to come on a late night walk across the school grounds with her. "I don't know," she finally said, squeezing her boyfriend's arm so hard it would likely leave light bruises.

Harvey clenched his teeth, as if trying to hold back a cry of pain. "What?"

"I don't know about this. Maybe we should go back to the dance." The odd feeling at the back of her neck was getting worse. The already dark sky seemed suddenly more ominous. She'd quickly gotten tired of all the smoke and noise at the dance, and her thoughts had continued circling back around to Draco and Ron's weird relationship, so she'd finally pulled Harvey away from the crowds and was now strolling along, yellowed grass crunching beneath her feet. She was, however, rethinking her decision to take a walk. "Something feels...wrong. Creepy."

"You're the one-" Harvey began to argue, but Ginny cut him off.

"I know, sorry. Let's turn back." She squinted around the dark grounds; towards the edge of the Forbidden Forest and across the expanse of the moonlit lake. Her eyes stopped at Hagrid's hut. She couldn't be sure, but she thought she could make out movement in the darkness. She tensed and lifted her glowing wand in order to see better. "What is that?" she asked. "Harvey, point your wand there."

The Ravenclaw did as he was told, and they both squinted into the slightly illuminated night. "Ron!" Ginny shouted. "It's Ron and Draco! I thought Malfoy said..." She trailed off and lowered her wand. "What could they possibly be doing over there?" She failed to notice Harvey, who had grown pale at her side.

"Who _cares_?" he whined. "Probably just making each other eat slugs or something. Come on." And if there was somewhat of a desperate edge to what the teen said, Ginny failed to notice it.

"I'm just wondering what in the bloody hell they're _doing_," she said, not moving.

Harvey tugged at her arm. "Let's go, Gin." Finally, reluctantly, she nodded and moved to turn. But just as she was doing this, there was a bright explosion and a ring of fire rose up, as if from nowhere, to surround the spot where the Slytherin and her older bother were standing.

Ginny let out a surprised cry. Harvey gasped. And then they were off, shouting and running as fast as their legs would carry them. Harvey pulled off the pieces of his costume armor, which was weighing him down, as he ran, leaving a shiny zig-zag trail of metal behind him.

"Ron! Ron!" Ginny shouted shrilly; she was half sobbing. Both she and Harvey stared at the tall wall of flames surrounding, maybe _engulfing_, Ron and Draco for a horrified moment. Then, almost as one, they both lifted their wands and let out a shout.

"_Finite Incantatum_!"

The spells hit their mark and the flames abruptly rose to frightening heights before completely disappearing. The two seventh years were sprawled on the ground, Draco half on top of the redhead and both of them covered in slimy pumpkin innards. The ground surrounding them was scorched.

Ginny let out a cry and fell to her knees; reached for the fallen teens. There was no blood or burns to be seen, but they were both so _still_-

Malfoy coughed. Very slowly, he rose to his hands and knees. Still hovering over Ron's body he opened slightly unfocused eyes and spoke. "Ron? You okay?" He coughed again and nudged the redhead's leg with his knee while Ginny and Harvey looked on in wide-eyed horror.

"Ugh..." Ron grunted. His hand came up to bat at Draco's arm. The blonde got his meaning and moved out of the way; he grunted and stood, breathing heavily. With the Slytherin out of his way Ron coughed and stood himself.

"God," breathed Ginny. "Are you okay?" She moved to hug her brother, then suddenly stopped and seemed to reconsider. She reached up and picked a chunk of slimy pumpkin guts out of his hair. "You're okay, right?"

"Oh," replied Draco. "We're bloody brilliant." He flicked some orange goo off of his shoulder and frowned at the stain it left behind.

"Uh, guys-" began Harvey, but Ginny cut him off.

"What happened? What _was_ that?" She eyed them both wildly, as if she couldn't quite believe they were still alive.

Both Ron and Draco seemed to snap to attention at her words. Ron glanced up at the blonde. "Well," he said. "Do you believe something weird is going on _now_?"

"Hey, Ginny-" tried Harvey.

"Something weird? What do you mean?" Ginny shot looks, back and forth, at the two seventh years. Her eyes grew wide. "You don't mean something like your fifth year...?" Her older brother and the Slytherin, still looking a little shocked, just stared at her. "Tell me!" she demanded. "Tell me what's happened!"

"Er, I really think-" Harvey began again.

"Remember that spider attack? The train station massacre?" Ginny nodded and Ron continued. "It's Snape. He was responsible for the station, _and_ he's been trying to kill me and Draco."

"What?" shouted Ginny. "What!" She paused to catch her breath; narrowed her eyes. "This time," she said, "we're telling Dumbledore right away. We're telling him _now_." She was breathing hard and gripping her wand tightly.

"Okay," said Ron. "We weren't even sure something was really going on until the explosion a second..." he trailed off, his face going white. Both Draco and Ginny turned just as pale. Snape was out here _now_. Snape had just attacked the Slytherin and Gryffindor, and they'd all been too distracted to realize they were still in danger. All three teens swept the grounds with their eyes, wands at the ready.

"Never mind," said Harvey. "He's gone now."

"What?" Ginny spun to face her boyfriend. "Who's gone?"

Harvey gestured to the forest beyond Hagrid's hut. "I tried to tell you guys. You said it was Snape who was doing everything, right? Well then, I saw him. He was standing right there, staring at us." The four teens stared at the spot where Harvey had seen the dark, hooded figure for a long, silent moment.

And then they all turned and ran, heading for the castle, and for Dumbledore.

oooooooooo

"Snape must have followed us when we left the party." Ron, realizing he was still in his now rather slimy Quidditch clothes wiggled out of the robe and threw it to the floor.

They'd made it to the Entrance Hall from Hagrid's hut in what must've been record time, and could now clearly hear the steady pounding that was The Wicked's music. A few people were slowly trickling out of the dining hall, either ready to go to sleep or to tuck into the piles of candy they'd swiped from the party.

"I thought you said Potter was watching him," growled Draco, looking none too happy. Ron shrugged and ran a slim hand through his hair, trying to clear it of any pumpkin guts.

"Never mind that," put in Ginny. She was standing by a nervous-looking Harvey and kept jumping whenever any students came strolling out of the hall. "We'd just better get to Dumbledore. He's probably in his office."

"Okay," agreed Draco. "Let's go." He'd already turned to leave when Ron grabbed his arm. "What?"

"I'm kind of worried about Harry," said the redhead. He looked over at his little sister and her boyfriend. "Will you guys go check on him? You can follow us to the Headmaster's office after you explain things to him."

Ginny sighed. "Yeah, yeah. Okay..." she trailed off. "Wait. Harry? What does he have to do with anything? How does he know about this?" Her eyes grew wide. "He doesn't know about Winter Break? About..._Macnair_?"

"Well, yeah," replied Ron, "he knows everything."

"Thanks to your big mouth, he knows everything," said Draco. Ginny gasped and looked for a moment like she was going to retort, but then she vaguely recalled the conversation she'd had with Harry at the beginning of the year - the conversation where she'd let it slip that something decidedly bad had happened Ron's fifth year - and shut her mouth. /Oh. Damn./

"Harvey, you're sure you saw Snape?" Ron asked this, and the Ravenclaw turned to face him.

"Well you said it was Snape that was doing everything, right? It was dark, and he was wearing a hood and a cloak, but it _must've _been him." The sixth year still had his wand out and looked ready to use it at any second.

The redhead shook his head and rolled his eyes. "Cloak?" He looked up at the blonde Slytherin. "What _is _it with us and people in dark cloaks?"

"Let's go," Draco said again, ignoring his question.

"And _holidays_," continued Ron. "Last time it was Christmas, now it's Halloween-"

"Come _on_." Draco tugged at Ron's arm and began dragging him away, towards the marble staircase. The two seventh years had made it up the stairs and disappeared around a corner before Ginny turned away.

"Okay," she said. "Let's go find Harry."

oooooooooo

Harry was fuming. He was staring up at the band playing on the stage, but wasn't really seeing them. His mind was on Cho. Stupid, stupid, _evil _Cho Chang. She and Harry could've just left their relationship as it had been; eventually they would have drifted apart without any foul words having been spoken between them. That would've been the ideal break-up. And that's the break-up that had been in progress.

Until the Ravenclaw had made it official. "Harry," she'd said, after getting his attention. "Harry, we've got to break up."

/Well, no _duh_./ Harry had _known _this, of course. Had known he was much too preoccupied with becoming and Auror and with preventing another devastating attack against muggles and wizards. Had known he was much too busy with worrying over the inevitable battle with Voldemort he would have to go through to have any sort of girlfriend.

But she could've been nicer about it.

The Gryffindor ran a hand through his messy, temporarily orange hair and sighed. He shot a look over at Cho. She was sitting at a round table with some of her friends, laughing out loud. Her eyes seemed to be glittering. She looked good.

/Well. Maybe she isn't _evil_./

There was a tap on his shoulder and Harry spun around, surprised to see both Ginny and her boyfriend Harvey. "Er...Hey, Ginny. I haven't seen Ron. He-"

"Are you alright?" The scarlet-haired teen eyed him critically. Behind her, Harvey seemed to be bouncing on his toes.

"I'm fine." Harry shifted his weight from foot to foot nervously. "Why?" he asked.

"It's Ron and Draco. They were attacked. It was Snape."

"Snape!" Harry shouted, suddenly remembering what he was supposed to have been doing. His eyes darted around the dining hall; the greasy-haired professor was nowhere in sight.

"They're both okay," Ginny continued. "They told us about you knowing about...everything. But they've gone to tell Dumbledore. We should go, too." She paused and narrowed her eyes. "How did Snape get passed you?"

Harry shrugged, feeling idiotic and more than slightly guilty. "I got...distracted."

The sixth year nodded. "Okay. Let's go." She reached for his sleeve, but Harry backed away.

"Wait," he said. "Did you say they went to get Dumbledore?"

"That's right." Harvey looked worried and anxious. His wand was in his hand, and he was gripping it so tightly his knuckles were white. "Why?"

Harry gestured to a spot in the dining hall next to one of the long refreshment tables. "Because Dumbledore's not in his office. He's _here_."

oooooooooo

"Do you think Dumbledore's in his office?" asked Ron, just as he and Draco rounded another corner.

Draco didn't turn back to answer. He hurried on, his mouth set in a grim line and his expression one of determination. "He wasn't at the dance earlier. Where else would he be?"

Ron, who didn't appreciate the blonde's pissy attitude, didn't bother to reply.

Noticing his silence, the blonde suddenly stopped. Ron ran into his back and let out a little 'oomph'. Sighing, Draco turned around and put a hand on the redhead's shoulder. The warmth of it was evident even through the cloth of Ron's t-shirt. "Look, I'm sorry. It's just..." He trailed off, his voice soft and his eyes desperate, and Ron was reminded of that first day of their seventh year all over again. The way Draco had apologized, the way he had practically pleaded for forgiveness, the way his hair and his eyes and his lips had looked...

"Forget it. We're here." And they were. They were standing in front of the ugly stone gargoyle statue that guarded the entrance to the Headmaster's office. The statue glared at them both suspiciously, and Ron's stomach began to do little flip-flops. Why hadn't they thought of this? How were they going to tell-

"Sugar quill," said Draco, suddenly, and the gargoyle grunted and jumped aside. The Slytherin stepped casually onto the escalator-like stone steps that would lead to Dumbledore, and Ron followed dumbly.

"How did you know the password?" he asked. He didn't like the tiny prick of suspicion that had so suddenly appeared at the back of his mind, but he couldn't quite help it.

The steps jolted to a stop and Draco shot him an unconcerned look. "I'm in the Order, Ron. Remember?"

"Oh," said the redhead, and the prick of doubt disappeared. He was being ridiculous, and paranoid. But really, who could blame him?

The two seventh years stepped forward into Dumbledore's office.

/It's too quiet./

Ron shot a quick look around the office. The pictures of all the former Headmasters were snoring in their frames, and the patchwork sorting hat sat atop a shelf as if it had been carelessly thrown there. Fawkes, who was looking quite sad and ruffled, stared at them morosely from his perch next to Dumbledore's desk.

"Headmaster," began Draco, stepping closer to the desk. Dumbledore's chair was turned away from them, the back of it so tall that even if he was sitting there they wouldn't be able to see the top of his head. "Headmaster? We have something important to-"

"I've been waiting for a chance to get you two alone," said a voice, cutting the blonde off.

Draco stopped talking. The chair turned, and Ron took a startled step back.

Sitting there, behind Dumbledore's desk, was Snape.

oooooooooo

/Bloody _fucking _hell./

Draco blinked disbelievingly at the Professor, his mind taking a few seconds longer than usual to catch up with what was going on. Could he and Ron seriously be that unlucky? Was it possible for someone to be _that _unlucky?

The edge of Snape's mouth turned up into some weird parody of a smile.

/Apparently so./

Snape stood slowly. The contrast of his terribly pale face against his dark robes was such that he looked almost unreal; like a strange specter. The man's hand rose and Draco realized he was pointing his wand at them...again.

"Let's get this over with," he said sharply. He opened his mouth to continue speaking, his wand still aimed threateningly at the two seventh years. Draco didn't take time to think.

"_Expelliarmus!_" he yelled, but Ron had yelled the same spell at the exact same moment. Snape's wand flew violently out of his hand, spinning until it clattered against a bookshelf and landed on the floor, and the Professor was thrown back into Dumbledore's chair. The man blinked once, his eyes glazed and unfocused, before sliding off of the chair and onto the carpeted floor in an ungraceful heap.

They'd knocked Snape out.

"Yes!" shouted Ron, giving a little jump of joy. "Yes! We cursed _Snape_." He stepped to Draco's side and peered at the lump of dark robe, pasty face, and greasy hair on the floor. "Wait. But that means..." The redhead shot a worried look at the blonde.

Ron didn't have to finish his sentence. Draco knew what he was worried about. Snape _was_ a Death Eater. That could only mean that Voldemort and his father knew he was a spy for the Order.

The Slytherin took a deep breath and tried to ignore the tightness in his throat.

"We still have to find the Headmaster," he said. "Let's go."

The two seventh years turned away from the unconscious Snape and hurried out of the office.

oooooooooo

Draco's eyes were stinging. Ron was jogging along beside him, the sound of their combined footsteps making a racket as they hurried through the corridors and back towards the dining hall.

The blonde had a strong urge to just reach out and pull Ron close to him; to kiss that full mouth until it was bruised. Instead, he kept running.

He tried to ignore the odd tightening in his chest and the twisting knots in his stomach. He was a _Malfoy_, goddamit. No matter how bad things got, no matter what happened to him, he musn't let his true emotions show.

/A Malfoy. Right/ Draco thought bitterly. If it was true that Snape was still on the dark side of the fence, and it certainly seemed like he was, Draco wasn't likely to be anything for much longer. Except for, maybe, a corpse.

"Draco," pleaded Ron from beside him, still jogging, and judging from his desperate tone of voice he'd said the blonde's name more than once. "Drac-"

"What?" snapped the Slytherin, coming to a sudden stop. He leaned against the stone wall behind him, panting slightly and taking in the sight of Ron, all flushed and heaving. "What is it?"

The redhead chose to ignore his annoyed tone. "Draco," he began, sounding serious. His eyes were hard. "I know you're worried about Snape being a Death Eater, but -"

"Worried?" shouted the blonde, pushing away from the wall and moving to crowd Ron. "Of course I'm bloody well worried, you git! He's a fucking _Death Eater,_ Ron. That means that my father...It means that _Voldemort_ knows everything!"

"Draco," said Ron, in a calm voice, but Draco didn't want to listen.

"Shut up, Weasel. 'I know your worried.' What kind of dim observation is -"

"Malfoy!" shouted Ron, suddenly and loudly. And that made Draco stop, his mouth still hanging open, because Ron didn't call him by his last name unless he were really mad. "Listen to me, will you?" He paused, stepping closer to Draco and putting a comforting hand on Draco's shoulder. "I was just going to say that I know you're worried about Snape being a Death Eater. I am too. But no matter what happens, I promise I won't let anything bad happen to you, Draco. I'll...I won't let anything bad happen."

His voice broke a little on that last part. Draco looked down at Ron with wide eyes, feeling a little stunned and extremely guilty. God, Ron. Here he was, freaking out and being a total git, and Ron was thinking about protecting him. God.

Without really thinking about it, the blonde reached out and put his arms around Ron's slim waist; pulled him closer. Draco rested his chin on the top of Ron's head and let out a breath he hadn't even been aware of holding. "I love you," he said, quietly. At first he didn't understand the shudder that went through the redhead's body, or the little intake of breath. But then he realized...he'd never told Ron that before. He'd never had the guts to tell Ron that before.

The Gryffindor let out a strained little laugh. "I love you, too." He pushed away from Draco's embrace and wiped at his face.

"Something in my eye," he muttered, when he saw the blonde was looking. Ron turned and began walking again, motioning for Draco to follow. "Come on," he said. "We'd better hurry."

Draco smirked at the retreating form of his boyfriend for a moment, just admiring the view, before hurrying to catch up with him.

oooooooooo

Ron's eyes were stinging. He blinked hard, and that helped a little, but the sting didn't completely go away.

/He loves me/ Well, he hadn't expected Draco to say _that_. He'd expected more ranting after his speech. Maybe a punch in the face for being such a dullard. After all, how in the hell was he going to protect Draco when things really got serious? He'd try, of course. But...

/He loves me./ He couldn't believe Draco had _said _that.

They turned another corner, and the marble staircase that led down into the Entrance Hall was suddenly before them. Good. Professor McGonagall would be in the dining hall, still manning the party. They'd tell _her_ what was going on, and she'd probably know where the Headmaster was. No more of this 'let's not tell anyone' crud that Dumbledore had pushed on them. Ron was going to make sure Draco was going to be okay, and screw what anybody else wanted.

A group of fourth year Gryffindors ran passed the duo, laughing and popping Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans into their mouths. Ron and Draco dodged them, before starting down the staircase.

"Excuse me," said Ron, when he bumped shoulders with a student who had been trailing the third years. The student, who was dressed as a Dementor as far as Ron could tell - a black cloak and a dark hood - didn't answer. Ron stepped to the side to let the kid pass; the Dementor wanna-be stayed where he was. Ron took a step _forward_ to pass the kid himself; the Dementor wanna-be moved to block his way.

"Hey," said Draco, stepping to Ron's side and looking annoyed. "You heard what he said. Move out of the way."

/Dark hooded figure/ thought Ron, almost absently. /Dark hooded figure? No. It was Snape. We got Snape.../

"Out of the way!" shouted Draco, impatient. He grabbed Ron by the forearm and looked as if he was ready to plow through, but Ron's mind was suddenly full of questions and concerns. Something wasn't right. Something was...

"We don't have time for this Halloween prank crap. Get out of our fucking way!" Ron could almost hear Draco's teeth grinding together. The blonde moved to push the student out of the way, but stopped cold when he found a wand, _another _damn wand, aimed at both he and Ron.

"I don't think so," came a soft voice from beneath the cover of the robes.

A pale hand emerged from the cloak and reached for the hood then slowly, _slowly_ pulled it off - but, of course, it wasn't Snape. It wasn't even a Slytherin.

It was Hermione.


	11. Part Eleven

BROKEN

Author: Harikari (Formerly Known as Nox2)

Notes: Wow...lots of reviews! Thanks so much! I read and appreciate (alright...worship) every single one! This is the second to last chapter. It doesn't explain quite everything...but I think things will make a bit more sense after you read it. Well, that or you'll be even more confused. Again, triple thank you's to reviewers! Oh, and sorry about all the cliffhangers. I'm evil that way. Here's number eleven.

Part Eleven:

It didn't make sense.

"Herm...what?" asked Ron, but his question trailed off into nothing. His mind was numb. He was frozen with confusion, with disbelief. He could feel Draco's strong fingers wrapped around his forearm.

This had to be some kind of mistake...some kind of joke.

"What are you doing, Granger?"

Hermione blinked and gripped her wand more tightly. Her face was pale and her eyes had an unnatural glaze to them. "Quiet! Just do what I say and I won't curse you." She gestured to their wands without letting her own falter from its aim. "Put them down and take a step back."

Ron shook his head, still in shock. What in the hell was going on? "Hermione, this isn't funny," said the redhead, his voice catching - almost breaking.

"Shut up!" the girl snapped. Her hands were shaking. "Do what I told you to. Do it _now_, Ron."

Ron felt it as Draco broke his grip on his arm. He could see it from the corner of his eye as the blonde slowly bent and lay his own wand on the marble step in front of Hermione. He took a step back. "Ron," began the Slytherin, and Ron thought he sounded a little scared. But that was impossible. Draco didn't _get _scared.

"Hermione," Ron tried again. "I don't understand." His voice was low, almost calm, but inside he was screaming. "Why are you doing this? Why-"

"Ron," growled Hermione. Her hands weren't shaking anymore; the wand was aimed at her best friend's heart. "Do it."

"Herm...," Ron said, again, but his brain was cloudy and confused. He could think of nothing to say.

"Goddammit, Weasel. Put down your fucking wand!"

Ron started at Draco's yell and shot a look back at the blonde. He found he had to correct his earlier thought. Draco _did_ get scared; only, not for himself. Moving in a sort of dazed stupor Ron bent and lay his wand next to Draco's. He stepped back and felt the Slytherin's hand come to rest on the small of his back.

The girl motioned for them to get in front of her, then bent swiftly to pick up the discarded wands. "Let's go," said Hermione, in a low and dangerous voice. The three of them walked briskly across the expanse of the Entrance Hall, and towards the doorway that led outside.

oooooooooo

Ginny stared at Dumbledore in disbelief. The Headmaster hadn't been at the dance _earlier_. "Wha...what do we _do_?" She turned pleading eyes to Harry. "Ron and Malfoy just went upstairs alone!" She turned to glance at a fuming Harvey for a second before spinning around and taking a determined step in the direction of the dining hall's exit.

Harry grabbed her arm. "No," he said. Ginny shot him a look that could melt cauldrons and he hurriedly continued. "_I'll_ catch up with them. You two go to the Headmaster and tell him what's going on."

"But..." Ginny protested, weakly. She wanted to make sure Ron was okay _herself_. But they didn't have time to argue about it. And, after all, this was Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived. The teen who attracted bad situations and bad people like cheese attracted mice. The one who had triumphed over the Dark Lord himself. More than once.

Ginny felt Harvey tugging at the sleeve of her costume dress, pulling her in Dumbledore's direction. "Okay," she said, and she and the Ravenclaw hurried off to talk with the Headmaster.

"Okay," said Harry, once the two sixth years were gone. He pulled his wand out of his pocket, swallowed back the strong feeling of guilt that was plaguing him, and prepared for yet another one of those Unfortunate Events he was so famous for.

He took a deep breath before heading out of the dining hall, across the Entrance Hall, and up the marble staircase that led to the second floor, and to Dumbledore's office.

oooooooooo

"Get in." Hermione jerked her head to indicate the small boat bobbing in the water. Draco recognized the boat as one of the small fleet that was used to bring first years across the lake from Hogsmeade to Hogwarts each year. He wondered briefly how the Gryffindor had gotten her hands on the thing. There were no other boats around, bobbing in the water at the very edge of the lake, and the Hogwarts staff had certainly never mentioned _where_ they stored the boats for winter...The blonde abruptly stopped wondering.

He had more important things to worry about. Like Granger.

Granger. Fucking_ Granger_. Draco couldn't wrap his mind around that. He shot a glance at Ron. The redhead was pale. He looked lost. He had his wide, blue eyes set on Hermione, and it seemed like he couldn't help himself.

/He _is _lost/ thought Draco. /His best friend is in the middle of kidnapping him./ Of all the people the Slytherin might've suspected... This wasn't right. Something was...off.

Well, that is, something _besides _Hermione going ballistic and trying to murder he and Ron was off.

"Go on," commanded Hermione, in a throaty sort of voice. She poked Draco in the ribs with the tip of her wand to prod him and it occurred to the teen - more than a little belatedly - that he should do something.

He should try to overpower her. He should try to knock that damned wand out of her hand, or maybe try to take his own wand back. She was a _girl_, after all. It wouldn't be too much trouble. Probably.

He shouldn't have even let the Gryffindor push them this far, out to the edge of the lake, forcing them to get into a boat.

Draco's long fingers folded over, his hand clenching into a fist. Ron had already gotten into the boat.

The blonde _itched _to do something. He _had _to do something. And yet...

/This is _Granger._/ He shot another look at Ron; noticed the hurt hiding behind the confusion and rage. The redhead, Draco knew, cared deeply for the girl. By stopping her, by hurting her in any way, the platinum blonde would be inflicting a sort of pain on both Gryffindors. So what was more important then? Ron's emotions, or stopping Hermione before things could get out of hand?

The Slytherin's mind was giving him one answer, while his heart was giving another.

"So you did it all, then?" The soft voice startled the blonde, and Hermione. They both turned to look at the redhead seated in the boat. His expression was like stone now. His eyes looked straight into Hermione's. "You tried to kill us, and you're connected to the attack on King's Cross?"

The girl didn't answer, and didn't look away from the accusing eyes boring into her own.

"Just tell me one thing," said Ron. He ran a hand through his hair, leaving it even more wild looking than before. His face was red, probably from anger. "Tell me why."

Hermione stayed quiet at that, too.

Draco stepped into the boat.

oooooooooo

"Er...Butterbeer?"

Nothing.

"Lemon drop?"

Nothing.

"Chocolate Frog?"

This time, the stone gargoyle guarding the entrance to Dumbledore's office made a crude face and waggled its tongue at Harry.

"This is serious!"

When the gargoyle appeared unmoved (both literally and emotionally) by his outburst, Harry took a deep breath and tried to calm himself. Yelling at a statue wouldn't help his situation any, nor would it help Ron and Malfoy.

He'd squared his shoulders and was about to attempt another password (sugar quill might work) when there was a sudden, loud click and the steps that led into Dumbledore's office appeared, spiraling downwards until they came to an abrupt stop. The gargoyle made a startled sound and hopped aside.

Harry moved so that the tips of his tennis shoes were touching the bottom of the first step and craned his neck, trying to see around the bend in the staircase. "Ron?" he called. He had his wand ready in his hand; a spell was on the tip of his tongue. He had a _bad _feeling. And Harry Potter didn't ignore bad feelings.

"Malfoy, is that you?" No reply. After a tense moment of silence the Gryffindor started up the stairs. He was standing on the second step when Severus Snape himself came stumbling down from the Headmaster's office, looking unusually pale even for him, and more than a little bit crazy.

The man's eyes were wide and startled looking. His whole body was shaking, apparently with the effort of keeping on his feet, and his wand hung loosely from his fingers. "Those little..." he was saying, but before he could voice the rest of his thoughts Harry had his wand up and pointed at the man's head.

At this, Snape's shocked look disappeared and his incoherent sputtering stopped. His eyes went from wide and disbelieving to narrow and angry. "Mr. Potter," he hissed. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Where are they?" demanded Harry, who was convinced that the shaken expression on Snape's face had been a ruse for anyone (besides the Boy Who Lived) who might've spotted the man leaving Dumbledore's office- a place where he wasn't supposed to be. A place where Ron and Draco might be trapped, or hurt, or even..."What did you do to them?"

"To _them_?" Snape shouted. He stomped his way down the stairs, brushed by Harry, then stopped in the hallway to look up at him. "Those two-" he started, but Harry cut him off.

"If you've hurt them, I swear I'll-"

"Hurt _them_?" said Snape. "Those two idiots cursed me! _Me!_" He stood up straighter and huffed in an offended sort of way. "Of all the...I was simply trying to..." He trailed off at this, and went back to glaring at Harry. Only this time his glare looked more suspicious than it did dangerous. "What are you-" he began, but Harry cut him off again.

"Stop fooling around and tell me what you've done to them, Snape!" demanded the Gryffindor, who was quite confused about the way the Potions professor was acting.

"Done to them? Now listen here, Potter. I don't know what you're talking about but you just stay out of my way because-"

"I know you're trying to kill them!" shouted Harry.

"Someone's trying to kill them," stated Snape, calmly.

"Wait," the two wizards bellowed in unison. "What?"

oooooooooo

The small boat's bow cut through the otherwise still water of the lake, creating miniature waves. Ron watched with disinterest as a slimy, white tentacle wiggled up from beneath the dark depths of the lake, squirmed around a bit, and then disappeared. The mysterious giant squid of Hogwart's was not important right now. What _was _important was Hermione and why she was, apparently, trying to kill he and Draco.

If he hadn't just finished cursing Snape up in Dumbledore's office the youngest Weasley might've guessed that Polyjuice potion (something he'd had much experience with in the past) was at work, and that the Professor was behind it. However, he _had _just cursed Snape up in the Headmaster's office, so thoughts like this were useless.

"She doesn't smell like cabbage," whispered Draco from beside him. Ron nodded. Polyjuice potion smelt strongly of cabbage, as did anyone who was under its influence. The blonde was, like Ron, obviously trying to find an explanation for the kidnapping other then 'Hermione's gone crazy'.

"Shut up, Malfoy," said the girl. He did. Ron gazed at Hermione's profile for a moment (she was turned away from him, looking at the sky) before looking away. He saw that they were near the center of the lake, and noticed that his heart had started beating double-time in his chest.

/So Hermione _is _the one whose been trying to kill us/ That fact was hard to swallow. But now, thinking back, Ron could see how it was possible - Hermione could have done all of those horrible things. She certainly had the power. She could've aided Death Eaters with the attack on the station (the redhead tried not to shudder at this thought), could've overheard Draco's conversation with Harry early in the year, and certainly fit Harvey's description for the figure who had nearly blown the two seventh years up earlier that very night. Biting at his fingernails in a nervous gesture and watching the small boat-made waves splash around the sides of the small, wooden vessel Ron had to reluctantly admit to himself that his best friend was probably guilty.

But why? Why would she do such horrible things? Why would she have tried to kill her best friends, her classmates, by siccing three giant spiders on... /Wait./

If Ron was remembering correctly, and he was certain he was, Hermione had been shifting mud and flobberworms along with the rest of the Care of Magical Creatures class the day of the spider attack. It was the day the redhead had been rescued by Draco, the day he'd felt better about the trio finally making up. And, okay, Hermione had been acting a little odd before that day. And she hadn't jumped to freeze the attacking spiders in order to help Ron like she might've usually done, either -Harry and Draco had done that. But her guilt didn't quite add up anymore. How could she have initiated the spider attack, when she had been reviewing flobberworms with the rest of the class?

Unless...Hermione shifted in her seat, and Ron's train of thought derailed. He could see now that they were beyond the center of the lake, and were quickly approaching the shore of the lake where first years boarded the boats from Hogsmeade.

"Where are we going?" asked Ron, suddenly.

To his surprise Hermione didn't tell him to shut up. "Told you and Harry earlier, didn't I?" She smirked as the boat came to a sudden stop. "I've got a date."

oooooooooo

Draco followed Hermione silently, Ron at his side, until he could see Hogsmeade station clearly, and could make out the vague suggestion of train tracks leading off into the distance. Beside them was a wild-looking bunch of trees and other sorts of vegetation - another edge of the Forbidden Forest.

This is where the Gryffindor girl stopped to gaze stupidly at the dark expanse that was the night sky. This is when the blonde made his move.

Without warning he wrapped his arms around Hermione from behind in a strangling grip. She let out a surprised little yelp and tried to wrench herself away from the Slytherin. "Grab the wands!" shouted Draco; he was having a harder time holding onto the witch than expected.

Ron blinked in surprise before springing into action. Draco knew why he was so surprised. It had been such a simple move, such a stupid mistake...The redhead had his hand in the oversized pocket of Hermione's dark robe, and a copse of clouds had just slid away from blocking the moon, when there was an incredibly loud _crack_, and a man appeared a few feet in front of three struggling teens.

The light of the evening sky was such that it illuminated the figure, and as it stepped slightly closer to them Draco realized that it was not, in fact, a man. It was a boy. He had dark hair and was quite tall - Draco could see that he held a startling resemblance to that Viktor Crumb bloke. Draco shot a look at a wide-eyed Ron; back at the Viktor lookalike.

And then realized, with a stab of gut-wrenching horror, who it was he was looking at.

"Hello boys," said John Macnair, smiling widely. "Did you miss me?"


	12. Part Twelve

BROKEN

Author: Harikari (Formerly Known as Nox2)

Notes: That's all folks! This is the end, the big finish, the last...well, you get the idea. This last chapter is sort of long, and didn't come out exactly like I thought it would - which is odd, because I based the whole fic around the idea for it. Go figure. I'd like to thank everyone who took the time to read and review "Broken"! I'm very grateful. I love reading feedback. I hope you all enjoyed reading, and I hope I don't disappoint with the ending! Thanks again, everyone! I'll see ya next fic. : )

Part Twelve:

Ron ceased trying to get back the wands from Hermione. He straightened from his crouch and moved slowly away from the girl, his eyes not leaving the figure of John.

The boy was wearing an array of muggle things. Jeans, a t-shirt, cross trainers with the laces untied...All of these rather normal clothes, however, were badly stained with mud, and grass, and rust-colored splotches that looked suspiciously like dried blood.

"What's the matter?" Macnair's voice was low and tinged with malice. He sounded tired, despite the wicked smirk on his face and the excited gleam in his eyes. "Surprised?"

Ron knew his mouth was hanging open. How could he and the others have been so dim?

Macnair. Of _course._

"It's not terribly unbelievable that you two didn't figure it out," said John in a nonchalant manner - as if he weren't an utter psycho with his prey within reach. "I mean last time," he continued, "you gave that Williams git credit for all my good murder attempts."

He turned his attention to Hermione, who was still in the same spot, being loosely held in place by a stunned-looking Draco. "Herm," he said, as if he'd been the Gryffindor girl's friend for years, and they were in the middle of a completely normal situation. "Who did they think it was this time?" He shot a look at Ron. "I _know _they had a suspect."

"Professor Snape," said Hermione, and all eyes turned to her. Draco seemed to realize what he was doing and finally let her go; backed up until he was shoulder to shoulder with Ron. "They thought it was Professor Snape. I heard them talking by Hagrid's hut just before..." She faltered.

Macnair, who didn't seem to notice this, barked out a laugh. "Snape? Right."

And suddenly, the sound of Macnair's taunting voice and of Draco's harsh breathing beside him seemed to fade into the background. Ron's earlier thoughts on Hermione's unusual actions, on her notable attendance of Creatures class during the spider attack, came back to him in a surprising, confusing wave.

And then everything just...clicked.

The Imperius Curse. _Hermione _was under the Imperius Curse, and Macnair had put her under it. There was no doubt in the redhead's mind that the boy was capable of doing this. After all, he had used one unforgivable curse on Ron two years before - had almost _killed _him with another. It certainly explained everything. Hermione's zombie-like manner, her failure to help her classmates during the spider attack (an attack that must've been brought about by Macnair himself), her kidnapping he and Draco... Even that first day of classes when Ron had seen the girl walking beside the lake with that Viktor look alike - with Macnair. It made sense, and Ron was suddenly overwhelmed with guilt. He hadn't even noticed that one of his best friends was in trouble.

"Bastard!" shouted Ron, abruptly and loudly. Macnair flinched and turned to him with narrowed eyes. "You've cursed her!"

"Well, yes." Macnair said this as if it should be the most obvious thing in the world. "It was really easy. She was so upset about not having friends, and about school. You know, some tosh about not being Head Girl." He grinned so that his teeth were showing. "Besides, what better way to get back at the two imbeciles who forced me into hiding for two years than through one of their friends?"

The guilt the redhead was feeling over not helping his friend swelled considerably. Macnair had used Hermione to get to _him_, and the only reason she'd been so vulnerable to the wizard was because of _him_. God.

"So," said Draco, "this time it's personal?"

The grin faded from Macnair's face. "Exactly."

"No rogue mission in order to please Voldemort?" asked the blonde. "No trying to get at Harry through Ron?"

"Voldemort!" growled Macnair. "That fool!"

Ron's eyes bugged at this. John Macnair was calling his Dark Lord a fool?

"Dumbledore never reported the incident during Winter Break. So you weren't hiding from Aurors or the Ministry for two years," Draco theorized. Ron wasn't sure what the blonde was trying to do and - considering Macnair's rapidly reddening face - was even _less_ sure it was a good idea. "You were hiding from Voldemort, weren't you? He hadn't _wanted_ you to go after Ron in our fifth year, and you got caught, and-"

"Shut up!" demanded Macnair. His eyes were blazing. "Voldemort's an idiot. I got out of trouble before the Ministry or Dumbledore could question me, didn't I? I managed to slip through the no apparation barriers when the so-called _Dark Lord_ wouldn't have been able to! And still, he tries to go after me. As if I'd somehow get caught and let it slip about the goddamn station attack-"

"That _was_ Voldemort, then?" asked Ron, genuinely interested in what was unraveling. He wondered how long they could keep Macnair talking. Maybe they could distract him enough that-

"Who cares about _his _plan!" bellowed Macnair. "Over two years of planning for something as stupid as a station attack! What good was that?" He waved his wand around frantically and began to pace. "I was eleven when I managed the unforgivable curses. _Eleven_!" He continued pacing, his teeth clenching, and Ron shuddered. _He _certainly remembered that. "I'll soon be greater and more powerful than Voldemort ever was - ever _will _be!" He stopped, breathing hard, his fist like a band of iron around his wand. "But first," he continued, seemingly coming back to himself. "First I'll have my revenge."

He turned to the two seventh years with a wicked smile. Ron realized, his stomach twisting, that they were out of time.

"Hermione," said Macnair, quite casually. "Kill your friends."

oooooooooo

Draco could feel his heart beating double-time in his chest. He could feel the warmth that was Ron's arm pressed against his own. He watched with strange detachment as Hermione spun on her heels to face them, raised her wand, looked him in the eye...

"No."

It happened so quickly that the blonde was left blinking incoherently. Hermione didn't move her body. She just lifted her arm and, without even taking a split second to turn and look at Macnair, yelled out a spell. Purple sparks flew from the girl's wand and right at the wizard's chest, knocking him back into a tree. He let out a surprised yelp when his back connected with the unyielding bark; slid down the trunk to land in a heap at its foot.

"How? Wha-" he sputtered, looking dazed. He shook his head and looked up at the Gryffindor girl with watery eyes. "_How?_"

"Throughout history there have been reported instances in which a witch or wizard was able to break through the control of the Imperius Curse. Harry Potter, for example, was able to fight its effects three years ago during Defense Against the Dark Arts class." The girl sounded as if she were quoting a textbook. Her face was ghost-pale and her whole body was shaking horribly, but she still had her wand pointed squarely at Macnair. "Plus," she said smartly, "you're magic is rather weak."

Macnair exploded at this. There was no other word for it. He growled and pushed himself to his feet, his wand almost seeming to appear out of thin air to point at the three seventh years. He hadn't let it drop when he'd hit the tree. "_Stupefy_!" he yelled, and a bolt of red light came wizzing out of the wand, straight at Hermione's chest. The Gryffindor girl let out a squeal of dispair when it hit, before falling promptly to the ground, unconscious.

"Herm!" And Ron was immediately at his friend's side. He got his arms around her shoulders, his fingers tangling briefly in her hair, and lifted her to a sitting position.

"Enough!" shouted Macnair. "Enough of this _shit_!" He aimed his wand so it was pointing at Ron. Draco moved to block the redhead but -

"_Avada Ke-_"

"_Stupefy!_"

The unexpected yell caused Macnair to look up in surprise a split second before finishing the words of the killing curse. He yelped and _just barely _dodged the sparks that had come wizzing at his head.

"YOU!" Macnair's eyes were wide to the point that he looked insane. He was looking beyond the blonde Slytherin, to the source of the life-saving spell.

Surprised and still feeling as if he were disconnected from things - as if everything were happening in a terrible sort of slow motion - Draco spun around.

Standing behind him, broom in one hand and wand in the other, was Harry Potter. "Well," panted Harry, not taking his eyes off of Macnair - his glasses were slipping down his nose and sweat beaded his brow. "I've figured out that it wasn't Snape."

Ron didn't laugh, Draco didn't move, and John Macnair turned and _ran_.

oooooooooo

"Stop him!" But it was useless. Harry shot a series of disarming and stunning spells in the boy's direction, but Macnair was running so quickly and crookedly towards the Hogsmeade train station that every single one missed him. The Gryffindor sprinted forward, as if to go after the bastard, but stopped abruptly next to Hermione. He shot a regretful look in the direction of the station before kneeling.

"Is she alright?" he asked. Ron shrugged and shifted a little, casting a worried glance over his shoulder at Draco. The blonde was glaring at the quickly fading form of Macnair, his arms hanging loosely at his sides and his fingers twitching. And then, suddenly, even as the redhead watched him, he strode over to the trio on the ground and knelt himself.

"I'm going after him," he said, and he sounded so matter-of-fact about it that Ron didn't bother with arguing. He watched as Draco gently - if quickly - dug in Hermione's pocket for his confiscated wand. Once he'd retrieved it he stood and turned to leave.

"Take her," said Ron, and Harry looked a little shocked but wrapped his arms around Hermione's shoulders anyway. "Stay with her," he ordered. He grabbed his own wand from the Gryffindor girl's pocket before standing himself. He saw that Draco, who had heard him, was already looking at him and shaking his head defiantly.

"No, Ron. You stay here. I don't have time to argue with you. Just...stay."

"Don't be ridiculous," he spat. "I'm going with you."

A pause. And then, "Ron he almost _killed _you!" Draco was breathing hard, his whole body tense and his eyes - light by nature - looking unusually dark.

"Twice," agreed Ron, standing his ground. "Which is why I'm most definitely going with you." The blonde opened his mouth, as if to argue further, but Ron plowed on. "I deserve to get that bastard, Draco."

The Slytherin didn't argue with that.

From behind him Harry shifted Hermione in his arms and looked up nervously at the two other seventh years. "Maybe _I _should-" he began, and Ron knew exactly what Harry was going to say. The boy _expected _to be a part of shit like this. He was almost always a part of it, but...

Both the redhead and the blonde cut him off with a harsh, "No."

"Somebody has to stay with Herm," pointed out Ron. "Did Ginny and Harvey...Is help coming?" he asked.

Harry nodded. "Snape's gone to get Dumbledore and the others. I just, uh, took it upon myself to start searching for you guys a little sooner."

Took it upon himself? That just meant that the Gryffindor had defied Snape's orders and had left to look for them before he was supposed to. Ron turned to gesture in the direction of the station. "Okay, so when the help shows up you can go after us."

Harry didn't look too pleased by this. "But I _can_-"

"John Macnair is..." Ron stopped; glanced at Draco before turning back to his friend. "I deserve him, Harry."

Harry looked even less pleased at that - like he wasn't quite sure what Ron meant by it and didn't like the implications - but nodded. "As long as you know what you're doing." He looked worriedly at his friend, then at the Slytherin. "As long as you know...where your going."

Draco got an odd, wistful sort of look on his face at this. "To play hero," he said, before spinning around and hurrying off in the direction of the Hogsmeade train station.

Ron followed him.

oooooooooo

"You do realize that he _wants _us to go after him?" Draco was ahead of him, his whole body tense with anger and his head turning, back in forth, in all directions - as if he expected Macnair to jump out from behind a boulder or a bush at any moment. "He'll be fucking _waiting _for us there. You saw him earlier. If he'd _really _wanted to get away he could've just de-apparated."

"I know," said Ron, who was concentrating on battling through the rough terrain that led to the Hogsmead station. He was only partly listening to Draco's rant. His mind kept flashing back to Hermione - her glazed eyes, her wierd moods. How had he _not_ known what was going on? How could he have possibly believed - for even a second - that she was purposely involved in all those terrible things? In the attack on King's Cross?

The whole issue with Harry finding out about the events of fifth year, and about his relationship with Draco had rather quickly and unexpectedly turned into another series of Unfortunate Events. He hadn't had the time to theorize about whether or not Hermione had been acting normally, or to wonder if maybe John Macnair - someone he had hoped to never see again - could be involved in the it-could-have-been-a-fluke spider attack on Hagrid's class. Heck, the redhead hadn't even been _sure _that someone was trying to kill him again until that pumpkin explosion just a few hours before.

/Right. But that's no excuse./ The Gryffindor couldn't ignore the facts that he'd had enough time to theorize about _Snape_; had even had time to curse him.

"...don't really know what to expect," Draco was saying. He stopped to glance back at Ron and catch his breath. "Just...be careful. I don't fancy the idea of picking itty bitty pieces of you up off the floor."

Ron grinned toothily. "Ah, Draco," he crooned. "I love you, too." He ignored the blonde's confused look and gave him a comforting pat on the shoulder.

oooooooooo

The train station seemed deserted.

Draco knew that at the best of times Hogsmeade station wasn't busy; it was very small, and remote, and its main purpose was to be there for the Hogwarts Express every school year. But now, it being so late, and Halloween, and with the recent station scare...Well, it was quiet and dark to the point of being _eerie_.

"Now," hissed Ron, who was at his side. "If we're _very _quiet, I'll bet we can-"

"I WONDER WHERE MACNAIR IS?" boomed Draco, quite suddenly. Ron turned around to look at him, his eyes wide and round as saucers. "HE'S SUCH A COWARDLY LITTLE SHITE, I'LL BET HE'S NOT EVEN-"

There was a familiar loud _crack _and Macnair appeared a few feet in front of them, just a few inches away from one of the several benches that sat facing the train tracks. His face was a color of red that even the Weasley's would have to fight to achieve.

"Well, yes," admitted Ron. "That works, too."

Draco moved first. Before Macnair could compose himself he pointed his wand and yelled, "_Expelliarmus_!" The spell flew towards Macnair, almost too quick to see. But, to the Slytherin's immense surprise and horror the spell simply...bounced off of the boy. There was no other word for it.

"He cast himself a shield," muttered Ron.

Draco had just enough time to process the words and realize they were correct before Macnair shouted and he felt himself lock up. His legs and arms were suddenly just stuck, he couldn't blink, couldn't move his mouth to speak, and...Crap. He'd been petrified.

He fell to the ground with an undignified _thunk_.

The blonde could see Ron's face hovering high above him, stunned. Then, from beyond his field of vision, came Macnair's voice.

"Well, well. Just me and you again, huh Ron? I've got some pleasant memories from our time in the forest together but..." He trailed off, and Draco could hear it as he slowly, slowly stepped closer. And then he too was just above the Slytherin, smiling viscously and face to face with Ron. He leaned in close to the shocked-looking Gryffindor, and for a moment it looked as if the bastard was going to _kiss _Ron.

From his helpless position on the ground the blonde looked on. /Don't fucking _touch_ him. Don't fucking _touch _him. _Don'tfuckingtouchhim_. _Donfuckint-_/

Macnair bypassed Ron's lips and leaned in so his mouth was next to the redhead's ear. "What say we skip the torture this time and go straight to the killing you?"

For a helpless moment Draco wished that he could at least close his eyes. That asshole, that utter _fuck_ was going to make him watch as Ron...as the redhead _died._

Macnair leaned back and the Gryffindor seemed to snap. He blinked and a look of rage swept across his face. In a sudden, surprising move he pushed at the bastard's shoulders; he stumbled back. Ron was aiming his wand before John had even regained his balance.

"_Idiot_," laughed Macnair. "That's not going to _do _anything. Haven't you been paying attention? No spells can work against-"

BAM. In the moment that Macnair had stopped to talk Ron had lunged forward and punched him, right on the chin. The boy's head flew back helplessly, his wand slipped from his grip and he fell, dazed, to the ground.

He landed right next to Draco.

"_Ahhhh!_" yelled Macnair, his anger finally so great he had lost the ability to even speak. He pushed himself up off the ground and the fight was on.

oooooooooo

Ron had some experience when it came to physical fighting. Not _much_ - he was far from being great at it - but he _did _have five older brothers he'd dealt with all his life.

He didn't know what he was doing, really. Didn't know if it was a good idea. But it was his only chance - everybody's only chance. If Macnair couldn't be beat by magic this time, well..._This _was the other option. Because there was no _way_ he was going to let Macnair get away with what he'd done to him and his friends; no _way_ he was going to let Macnair win.

Because if Macnair won...Well, it was _very _likely that he'd become as big a nuisance as Voldemort. Too likely.

A balled up fist caught his gut and Ron cried out. Another fist caught the side of his head - before he could fall a pair of strong hands were wrapped around his neck, cutting off his air. The Gryffindor gasped and pulled fruitlessly at the hands. Okay, so he'd found the flaw in his plan - _he _wasn't a murderous psycho with the urge to kill. Macnair, on the other hand...

Ron's vision seemed to narrow until he could only see John in front of him; a red face, teeth clenched tightly, muscles twitching. Shit. Ron couldn't breath anymore. Couldn't think.

"You really believed you could beat _me _with such a stupid trick?" Macnair growled, punctuating each word with a harsh shake. "You really think, after I outsmarted Voldemort, after I got through Dumbledore's barriers, after all I've done that you _alone _could beat me?" Ron's world was rapidly turning black. He thought vaguely that this must be what dying felt like, and then...

"You're mistaken, Mr. Macnair," came a voice, strong and confident and wise. And as Macnair's grip loosened slightly Ron realized that it was Dumbledore. "Ron is not alone."

And then the hands had left his neck. Ron fell bonelessly to the floor. He managed to look up and saw _everyone _- Harry, Hermione, Ginny, Harvey, even Snape - standing just behind the Headmaster, their wands in their hands. "Now, Mr. Macnair, don't do anything rash," Dumbledore continued.

But it was useless. Macnair lunged for his fallen wand; had it in his grip before the redheaded Gryffindor could blink. Trying not to think too deeply about it - spells _won't _work on him, he has that shield - Ron lifted his own wand, which he'd miraculously managed not to drop during the fight, and aimed.

"_Ava-_" But the boy was cut off almost before he'd started.

"_Expelliarmus_!" yelled Ron, and at the same exact moment heard several different voices echo his spell, or shout one of their own.

"_Incarcerous_!"

"_Petrificus Totalus_!"

"_Stupefy_!"

Macnair dropped his wand, let out a blood-curdling cry, and fell. When the spells were done he lay on the ground, his sightless eyes on the night sky above, drool slipping from his mouth, blood dripping from his ears, and his fingers twitching frantically.

oooooooooo

Draco stood near the back of Dumbledore's office, carefully _not _listening as Harry went on and on about what had happened. The blonde was more preoccupied with the lingering stiffness in his limbs and, of course, with the angry dark bruising around Ron's neck. It was strange. He should've been concerned about the fact that Snape and Dumbledore knew he'd told the Boy Who Lived everything about fifth year, and about being in the Order. He should've been a little relieved that Macnair was no longer a threat - and _damn _hadn't that bastard looked bad when he'd finally come out of the body bind and had sat up to see? Those are the things he should've been thinking about.

But he wasn't.

"Professor _Snape_?" Dumbledore cut in to Harry's tale and the Slytherin forced himself to pay attention. "Why in the world would you think Professor Snape-"

"Well, he _did _practically kill Ron and Draco when he caught them together." Harry said, squirming a little.

"I'm sure he was merely concerned that Mr. Malfoy was in danger of being found out," replied the Headmaster. The man was sitting at his desk, leaning back in his chair and looking rather unconcerned, considering everything that had just happened. Fawkes was asleep on his perch, and kept listing slightly to the left.

"He was also the one to suggest the Halloween dance," put in Harvey, from his place next to Ginny. When everyone turned to look at him he flinched noticeably, then shrugged. "I mean, Professor Snape pulling for a dance for the students - that was a little odd, wasn't it? It could've been part of his plan to-"

Snape, who had been standing rigidly at Dumbledore's side, glared at the Ravenclaw through parted curtains of dark, greasy hair and spoke up. "The Headmaster and I have already explained to you all," he said, "that the dance was an attempt to bring into the open the culprit-"

"Brilliant," piped in Ginny, who had a supporting arm around a rather haggard looking Hermione. "Was it your plan to have Hermione put under the Imperius curse and kidnap Ron and Draco so that John Macnair could kill them all? Because if it was, I tell you, it worked out gre-"

"Miss Weasley!" boomed Dumbledore, suddenly. Everyone got quiet. The old man calmly settled back in his chair and popped a lemon drop into his mouth. "As I said before, Professor Snape and I detected a disturbance in the barriers around the school the very first day of classes. Of course, it wasn't a very big disturbance - young Mr. Macnair is quite talented - but we both decided to keep an eye out for anything unusual. We obviously noticed some _particular_ students lurking about, or acting rather odd." He pointedly eyed the Trio and Draco. "And then there was that incident with the spiders. We thought it might be wise to have a social event to draw out whoever it was who had disturbed the barriers. We had reason to believe that it might be John Macnair again, maybe working with Voldemort, considering how it all ended two years ago. We were afraid he might be after Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy once again. So, Professor Snape and I took shifts - trading between being in my office and being at the dance. However, we had no solid _evidence _that something was going on around the school. You see, the students that _should _have come to me as soon as they had any suspicion," he stopped to look at freaking _all _of them, "did not."

"Well," put in Harry, defensively. "We weren't sure _ourselves _until-"

But Dumbledore ignored him. "So I'm afraid that Professor Snape and I rather carelessly changed shifts, leaving certain students free to wander off into more dangerous situations." This last proclamation was met with silence. Harry shuffled his feet, and Ron looked at the floor.

But Draco was tired of this. Okay. So he and Harry should've told Dumbledore as soon as they'd heard that mysterious _someone _listening to them in the hallway. And _maybe_ he and Ron should've said something to Dumbledore about Ginny letting it slip to Harry about fifth year. But there was no way any of them could've known, even after that spider thing, that they were in _danger_. There hadn't been any real proof until the pumpkin had exploded and Harvey had seen the cloaked figure watching them. And as for Ginny and Harvey, _they_ hadn't even known anything remotely unusual was going on until they'd rescued he and Ron from the stupid pumpkin. And they _had _gone to tell Dumbledore right away. And Hermione...Well, Hermione certainly couldn't have told the Headmaster something was wrong.

Dumbledore was trying to put this mess off on _them_. That was fucking ridiculous. Draco opened his mouth to say so when -

"I think a great deal of us made mistakes," said Dumbledore. Snape glowered from beside him. "We apologize, and I'm sure everyone else apologizes. Let's hope this doesn't happen again."

/Again/ And then, suddenly, Draco _did _have something to say. "Why did you make us keep Macnair a secret in the first place?"

Harry turned to look at him with wide eyes. Ron did the same. As if questioning Dumbledork was a mortal sin or something. Whatever. He wanted to know.

Dumbledore nodded and sat up straighter. "For you, Draco. If what had happened in your fifth year had gotten out - if say your father or Voldemort had found out that you had helped a member of the Weasley family - that would have been bad news for you. Am I right?" Reluctantly, the Slytherin nodded. "Also," admitted the Headmaster, "there was the matter of you being useful." The old man leaned forward, his eyes twinkling. "Even if Mr. Macnair hadn't disappeared two years ago I would've tried my hardest to keep what had happened a secret, Draco. Because of your usefulness."

"Because of the Order," said Draco, finally realizing. "As soon as you...As soon as I helped out Ron you thought I might be willing to join the Order." There were a few gasps around the room - Hermione, Ginny, and Harvey. And Draco realized that _they _hadn't known anything about him being a member of the Order. Well, Hermione might've - but she wouldn't remember, having been cursed at the time she'd heard about it.

"That's right," agreed Dumbledore, turning away from Draco so he could face the room at large. "And speaking of the Order, I'd like to talk to you all..."

oooooooooo

"I'm hungry," announced Harry, who came hopping down the spiral staircase last. There was a _click _and the stairs began to disappear. The stone gargoyle jumped back into its original place as guardian of the entrance to Dumbledore's office and glared morosely at the Boy Who Lived. "Is anyone else hungry?"

"I'm starving," said Hermione, from her place next to Ginny. And she was. She wondered when she'd eaten last. Her memory of the last two months was almost non-existent. She remembered little things. Shifting through mud for flobberworms, sitting in the library doing homework, Ron telling her that he was worried about Harry...Her last _really _clear memory was of her first day of seventh year. She'd been rather upset, she remembered. Everything had seemed...wrong, somehow. She remembered walking alone, by the lake, wondering if Viktor would reply to her letters soon. Then there was a startlingly familiar looking, friendly young boy - Macnair, obviously. Then nothing. "But I'm supposed to see Madam Pomfrey first."

"Come on, Herm," pleaded Ron, coming to stand next to her. "It's almost sunrise, anyway. Let's all go eat something and get some rest. Then I'll go with you to see Pomfrey." He frowned and rubbed absently at the bruises on his neck.

"Okay," agreed Hermione. She paused to look down at herself - she'd taken off her cloak and was dressed only in the costume she'd worn to the dance. She strained her neck to see and - yes, there they were. Her wings were still hovering sadly at her back, torn and bent. She pulled away from Ginny's support. "You all go ahead," she said. "I'm just going to get rid of these things."

Harry had - in his excitement - already trotted away towards the kitchens, secure in the knowledge that his friends would all follow. Ginny and Harvey nodded at Hermione and turned the corner to go after him.

With a deep sigh Hermione knelt - in order to aim better - and pulled out her wand. "_Finite_," she muttered, and the wings fell to the floor with a soft _plop_. She picked them up and, still kneeling, studied them with a frown. What was she supposed to do with them _now_? She didn't want to carry-

"You're sure you okay?"

Startled, Hermione looked up to see Draco and Ron leaning against the stone wall. Draco's hand had a hold of Ron's arm - had, in fact, started to _caress_ said arm. "Yeah, I'm okay." Ron shot a nervous look at Hermione and the girl quickly went back to studying her wings - only to look up again a second later; this time through her eyelashes.

Hermione understood now that Draco had saved Ron's life two years ago. And now he'd been through the second Macnair disaster with the redhead but...She didn't understand _why_. She couldn't quite comprehend the blonde Slytherin being a good guy. She didn't get why Draco had been chosen as the first Order member (_first_, because now she, Ron, Harry, Ginny, and Harvey were all official members). And now _this_. What was this?

"Are you okay?" Ron asked, his voice a little shaky.

Draco smiled his smart-ass smile. "Yeah," he said, and then he leaned down and kissed the redhead, briefly, on the lips.

Had Hermione been eating or drinking anything just then, she would've choked. Instead, her eyes nearly bugged out of her head and she crushed the translucent wings in her hands to an even more unrecognizable state.

Ron squeaked. "Draco!" he shouted. From under her eyelashes Hermione saw the Gryffindor shoot another nervous look her way. And then, seemingly convinced she hadn't seen anything, he coughed. "Malfoy, you prat, I don't _care _if you're okay or not!" Then, in a softer voice. "So, uh, _we're _finally okay?"

The blonde started laughing. He grabbed Ron's hips and pulled him close, so that their chests were nearly touching. "Dork," he said affectionately, before leaning down and devouring a protesting Ron's mouth. It was rather heated and...yes, that _was _tongue. And Draco's hands were moving very slowly, downwards, towards Ron's...

/Well/ Hermione did a very careful vanishing spell. The wings in her hands disappeared, and she made a show of patting at her dress. She very obviously was _not _looking at Malfoy's hand pawing at her best friend's ass, or listening to Ron's little moans, or...God.

So _that's _why Draco had helped Ron out. _That's _the thing that had happened to Ron in his fifth year that had changed him. He was...they were..._Oh_. Well, at least it made some sense now. Hermione wasn't happy about it - she had rather hoped she and Ron would end up together. But at least Ron was - another moan - happy. And her and Viktor had been getting pretty serious, before the whole Imperius thing. So maybe it was all - a suggestive slurping sound - for the best.

"What's taking you so long? Er..Uck."

/Oh thank _God_./

It was Harry. Hermione stood with a too-bright smile on her face. "Nothing, nothing." Ron was leaning with his back against Draco's chest - the blonde's arms were wrapped around his waist and the Slytherin's smile was akin to that of a cat who'd gotten his cream. Well, you know, if cat's smiled. Hermione sighed and wondered if her brain had been rattled by the Unforgivable that had been cast on her.

Ron looked, back and forth, between she and Harry. His look clearly said "I am _so_ not gay. Don't you dare say I'm gay. You didn't see anything gay, Herm. Really."

"Let's go," she said, and waved her hands in a _come on_ gesture. "To the friendship dinner." Harry nodded at her.

Ron pulled away from Draco and began walking down the corridor. Hermione followed. Harry turned and had sprinted to her side when he seemed to realize something. He stopped and turned back.

Draco was still lounging against the wall, looking unsure.

"Well," said Harry, "Mal...Uh, Draco. Are you coming or not?"

"Oh," said Draco, as if he'd known he was welcome all along. "Yeah, sure." He pushed away from the wall and hurried to Ron's side. The two disappeared around the corner.

Hermione smiled at Harry and linked her arm with his. "You okay?" he asked, giving her a searching look.

"Yeah," she answered. And she was. Her friends had saved her, and that Macnair jerk was off to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries for the rest of his life. The Trio was back together again. Even though, now, they weren't technically a trio. More like a sextet with Draco, Ginny, and Harvey added into the equation.

But that just made it that much more easy to, one day, go up against Voldemort. It made them stronger, and it made Hermione more optimistic.

Life was back to being how it was supposed to be. Things no longer seemed...broken.

And Hermione Granger was happy.


	13. Epilogue

EPILOGUE

oooooooooo

"I've been thinking about Macnair," said Ron. Draco had an arm wrapped tightly around him and his face buried in the soft skin of the redhead's neck. He could feel soft, short little hairs tickling at his nose and could smell his love's skin - maybe taste it, if he just stuck his tongue out and bent his head a little...

Ron shivered and wiggled closer.

"That's kind of rude," joked Draco. "I've been thinking about _you_-" An elbow jabbed him lightly in the ribs. "Come on, Ron. We've already discussed this. Dumbledore said he probably got distracted and lost his shield while he was fighting you, or that seven spells was just too much for it."

"Not that," continued Ron. "It's about St. Mungo's. It's almost as if...Well, wouldn't it be just what he _wanted_? I mean, since he did get caught?"

"What do you mean?" Draco pushed himself up on an elbow and looked down at Ron adoringly. He brushed some hair from the way of the redhead's blue eyes; leaned in to kiss him on the cheek.

"I mean St. Mungo's is probably a lot easier to break out of than Azkaban, Draco. Maybe..." he trailed off.

Draco sighed and flopped back down on the bed. Ron moved so that he was laying with his head on the blonde's bare chest, his leg swung casually over one of the Slytherin's. His hips positioned just _so_.

"It's over, Ron. Macnair's brain is...Hell, he doesn't even _have _a brain anymore. He's out of it. We don't have to worry about him any more." Ron nodded against him, then looked up to smile at him. "Yeah," he said. "You're right. I'm just being paranoid. I guess I'm just thinking that Macnair is like our own private Voldemort, you know?" He sighed and settled again. "But you're right."

"You know," admitted Draco, looking beyond the four poster they were lounging in and around the Gryffindor seventh year dorm. "I'm glad I didn't go to Hogsmeade."

"Yeah," agreed Ron. It had been over a week since Halloween and the ban on going to Hogsmeade had been lifted (this gave Draco reason to believe that the ban had been in place more for the disturbance Dumbledore had sensed in the barriers than for the station attack), and the students of Hogwarts had been allowed a belated trip. Draco and Ron, however, had given up their chance at going to Hogsmeade in favor of staying in the castle, sneaking Draco into Ron's room, and doing some more...interesting things. "I asked my sister to buy my Christmas presents for me, since I didn't go."

"Yeah?" asked Draco, absently, as he attempted to pull the sheets - which were tangled up in their limbs - closer around them.

"I didn't know what to get-" Ron was cut off by a sudden, sharp knock on the door. The two seventh years had only the time to get horrified and wide-eyed before the door to the dormitory swung open, revealing a small figure dressed in Gryffindor robes - who froze at the sight of them.

It was Ginny.

"I _knew _it!" she yelled, dropping all of the parcels she was holding onto the floor and pointing an accusing finger at Ron. "I _knew _it!" She stepped closer to them, her mouth hanging open and her eyes wide. She poked at Ron's shoulder. "You're _gay_," she informed him.

The redhead paled. Ginny gawked. Draco yawned and hugged Ron closer to his chest. "No kidding?" he said. "We weren't certain, what with all the snogging and the blowjo-"

"Draco!" squeaked Ron.

"You're _gay_, Ron!" shouted Ginny. And she poked at his cheek.

Ron groaned.


End file.
